More Reasons Than Not
by permiable-cell-walls
Summary: It has been nineteen years since the end of Voldemort, but not everyone is happy with their lives, even if they don't have to fear for them daily. Hermione Weasley encounters a man from her past and togethery they discover the meanings of adventure, exci
1. Chapter 1

This Muggle automobile was entertaining for her

**In the Mirror**

This Muggle automobile was entertaining for her. She hadn't ridden in one for a long time, and the things had changed quite a bit. The windows rolled down when you pressed a button, and she couldn't help but think of how much Arthur would love to examine how it worked.

The thought of Arthur sent a shock of pain down to her stomach. Not for Arthur himself – no, he was healthy and still going strong, although he had aged quite a bit and retired from the Ministry – but for her own father. He was there to walk her down the aisle, but not much longer. Only two years after she and Ron got married, her father was struck with terminal lung cancer. It hadn't been much longer until he was at the end.

He'd slipped away peacefully, but that didn't dull the pain for her. She missed him greatly, every day. What killed her most is that he'd never seen his grandchildren.

Her father loved kids, always had, and even from the time she was a teenager, he talked about being a grandfather constantly. She'd known the things he wanted to teach her children – like how to fish, and hunt, and even how to use a telephone. He was excited to see her little children running around doing accidental magic, but he also wanted to teach them how to live like Muggles.

She had tried so hard to get pregnant when she knew that he was sick. It felt like her way of trying to give him his one last wish. But the little pink line would never show up.

She recalled the first time it did, though. She was in the small bathroom of her and Ron's little flat right down the road from the Leaky Cauldron, and she had been feeling odd for a few days already. She didn't think it was possible, but she'd run down to the market on her way home from work and picked up a Muggle pregnancy test anyways. She knew there must be magical ways to tell if one was pregnant or not, but she didn't know what they were, and she saw no reason why she couldn't do it the Muggle way.

Her hand had shook so much as she held that little white stick, counting slowly in her head to 180. She held her breath for the last minute or so, and by the time she looked down at the test, she could have fainted from lack of oxygen alone, not to mention the incredible feeling of shock and elation at the sight of the clear, dark pink line.

She read the instructions again, just to make sure, and confirmed the fact that "pink pregnant". Her breathing was rapid by then, and just when she was wondering how she would wait for Ron to get home, she heard him come through the door.

She'd practically pounced on him when she told him the good news. His eyes got huge and his face seemed to freeze in place. He stared at her for a few moments before letting his jaw slacken and his mouth hang open. Then, as if it was in slow-motion, a smile spread across his lips, starting at one side and making its way to the other.

"You mean I – I'm going to be a dad?" he'd finally croaked.

Hermione smiled from the memory. It was one of the happiest times of her life, finding out that she was going to have a baby.

When her father died, all Hermione had to give him was a few roses, laid at his grave. So, when her daughter came along, she named her after those roses, so that she would always remember him and what he wanted for her children.

And now Rose was going off to her first year at Hogwarts. Hermione could still remember her first trip on that train, the excitement of first stepping out into the magical realm, where she would learn all sorts of new things. She was so happy for Rose to have that experience, but at the same time, it would be different not having her little girl around.

She sighed and got herself ready for the drive. She wouldn't say that she was _afraid_, exactly, of her husband's driving – she only felt uncomfortable when he came within two inches of other cars, changed lanes without looking in the mirrors, or basically preformed any potentially life-threatening maneuvers. Especially while Hugo was in the car with them.

She glanced back at her son, who was slumping in his seat and resting his head on the sill of the car window, apparently a little depressed about his sister leaving for Hogwarts without him.

"Don't be too sad, Hugo," she whispered, trying to cheer him up. "Rose doesn't get to have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch anymore, and guess who still does?"

The boy brightened up a bit. "Me?" he asked, seemingly very excited about the notion of eating a PB&J.

"Of course!" Hermione told him, mirroring his enthusiasm. "In fact, Ron," she turned to her husband. "Why don't we stop off at a Muggle grocery an pick up some ingredients."

He glanced over at her as he turned the key in the ignition. "I don't know, Hermione, I haven't got any Muggle money."

"I've got some," she said. "I brought some along just in case." She shook her small clutch wallet at him and smiled.

"Fine," he raised his eye brows. "You'll have to go in, though, I don't know how to find things in those sort of stores." He shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking spot, almost nicking the right side mirror on the car next to them.

After Hermione calmed her breathing – for she hadn't been expecting a near collision so soon in to the drive – she glanced at the mirror and was very surprised indeed to see Draco Malfoy's reflection, staring almost blankly at her.


	2. Chapter 2

The Muggle Market

**The Muggle Market**

Hermione gasped as Ron came within a centimeter of the car in front of him.

"Go on, then," he said as he turned to her. "We'll be back to pick you up in a few minutes."

She glanced into the back seat to ask her son if he would accompany her, but she saw that he had fallen asleep during the ten minute drive, and was not drooling on the car door. She shut her mouth silently and smiled fleetingly at Ron before opening the door and stepping out.

As soon as she slammed it shut, Ron was zooming through the parking lot, weaving around cars like a NASCAR racer.

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was such a teenager sometimes.

She stepped in a small puddle on her way into the store, and the water came up to splash her Muggle jeans violently. She swore under her breath and bent down to wipe the water off the pants, but the denim was soaking it up like a sponge. Somehow, just from that one little splash, her leg was wet up to the knee.

She let out a sigh of annoyance as she made her way into the grocery, avoiding puddles henceforth.

To her immense surprise, the huge glass doors slid out of the way before she even went to push them aside. She glanced both ways to see if someone had moved them for her, but no one was around. It seemed like the doors knew she was coming, and moved out of the way.

She frowned as she stepped through the threshold, trying to figure out how Muggles had come up with a way to detect an approaching customer.

She thought she must look insane to the people in the store, with her leg all soaked and looking all confused at how the doors moved. Luckily for her, there was no one around to see her looking suspicious.

She knew only vaguely where to go. She remembered from when she was a kid that Muggle grocery stores usually separated foods by their type. Peanut butter was a jarred food, so she had to find the jars. And jam was jarred, too, so find one and you've found the other.

The only thing was, it seemed like they had stopped selling jarred foods. Hermione couldn't find one single jar – anywhere.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a person wearing the same bright orange color as the sign in front of the store. She turned to face the person, and was greeted very loudly by a woman practically yelling, "CAN I HELP YOU MISS?"

Hermione cleared her throat and furrowed her brows. "Ahem, yes, I suppose you can… I'm looking for jarred foods."

"Well that would be right over here, wouldn't it? Follow me, I'll just show you right on over there… Here we are," the employee rambled on as she walked ahead of Hermione down the aisles. She stopped in front of a tall shelving unit, filled with all sorts of jarred food.

Hermione could have sworn this wasn't there before, but she smiled and thanked the lady anyways. Surveying the jars, she quickly found a jar of peanut butter and one of strawberry jam. She wasn't sure if she should get that one, or if she should go for the grape. She stood there for a moment, examining the two jams, until she heard a footstep behind her.

"Pansy, what is this?" Draco said as he approached his wife, who was reclining idly on a lounge sofa, staring blankly at their baby son on the floor.

_Her eyes snapped to him and the fact that he was holding a wand. It was a short one, made of a dark wood, with the initials "B.Z." carved on the under side._

"_It's Blaise's wand," she said blandly, apparently very bored with this discussion already. But then, she was usually bored with discussions._

"_And what, may I ask, is Blaise Zabini's wand doing in your…your… Pansy are you listening?!"_

_She had shifted her gaze to his shoulder, and was watching it intently. When he raised his voice, her eyes moved back to meet his._

"_Are you trying to ask me something, Draco?" she said, rolling her eyes._

"_Are you fucking Zabini, Pansy?" Draco spat. He didn't want to waste more time in that discussion._

_She licked her lips and smiled with one side of her mouth. "So what if I am?" she asked._

"_What if you – Pansy! Does this mean nothing to you?" he held up his left hand, showing his wedding ring to her. "Merlin, how do I even know that he's mine?" he pointed at Scorpius, who was now staring up at him with his silvery blue eyes._

_There was no point to that question, because the fact that Scorpius was Draco's son was as plain as day. They looked exactly the same, down to the little smirk, which the child had already picked up._

"_Oh, calm down," Pansy said, and rolled her eyes again. Then she narrowed them and stared directly at Draco. "It's not like you've never been unfaithful."_

"_I – I – what the hell are you talking about? I haven't been with anyone other than you since we were betrothed!" he sputtered. "I was seventeen! And even then, I was able to understand what marriage meant. And it's obvious, Pansy, that you can't even figure it out by now."_

_She smiled back at him cynically. "What are you going to do?" she asked._

"_I – " Draco started, but then shut his mouth. The image of his father threatening him – pointing his wand at him viciously, warning him not to destroy the family's honor – came into his mind, and he knew what could be done. "Nothing," he breathed before scooping his child up off the floor and walking out of the room, not needing to look back at his wife, who, he knew, was still laying there on the sofa, looking more complacent than ever._

"_Pansy?"_

"_Hmm?" _

_She opened her eyes slowly and brought them to meet his._

"_Get out of my bed," he said to the man who'd just sat up._

"_I – I can explain – " the unknown man stuttered in fear. But Draco wasn't interested._

"_I don't care," he said as he held up his hand to stop the man. "Just get out before my son wakes up and realizes what a filthy whore his mother is," he said calmly._

_Pansy wrinkled her nose and turned her head to face the window as the door slammed shut._

"_I'm glad to know that you don't miss me too much while I'm away," he said as he dropped his briefcase and loosened his tie. "You know, I always enjoy your welcoming home… gifts."_

_She turned her head back at him and sighed deeply. He tried to read her face for any ounce of emotion whatsoever, but it was devoid. She was empty. He hated her._

"_How was Scorpius while I was away?" he asked. That was the only thing he cared to know from her, anyway. _

_She shrugged. "I didn't see him. He was with that Chinese woman the whole time."_

"_The Chinese woman?" he asked, unaware that they had hired a new nanny. Then it dawned on him. "Pansy, do you mean your mother?" he asked, bringing his face a little closer to her, to examine her insanity._

"_Yeah, must've been," she said, and then laid down again, pulling the duvet over her head._

_Draco walked into their bathroom and scooped up the pills on the counter. Flushing them down the toilet, he wondered when things had become this way. He wondered why he didn't just get out of it already. He had more than enough reasons._

_And he would get custody, he knew that for sure. _

_He looked in the mirror and scrunched up his long, pointed nose. He was very unhappy with his loss of hair in the last few years, although he was sure it was from stress. He, Draco Malfoy, stressed? It was a ridiculous idea, but it was true. Because of that dumb bitch laying in his bed, he could never relax. _

_He could never walk down the street without looking into every man's eyes and wondering if his wife had slept with him. Yet. He could never come home without preparing himself to catch her shagging another one of the countless men. _

_He could never entertain people in his home, for fear that someone might find some thing or some drug or some man in his bedroom, waiting for his wife. _

_He could never look at a woman, because every time he did, a pang of loneliness hit him in the chest, and he wanted to hold her, no matter who she was, because he couldn't hold his wife._

_And yet, all these years, he had been faithful. He covered up for her, flushed her drugs down the toilet, kept away from other women. Stayed with her even though he deserved to leave._

_He sighed at his reflection. Why did he put up with it?_

"What do you want?" she asked him. This was _definitely_ not a coincidence, and she didn't want to hear any lies saying it might be. She didn't dance around the subject. "Why are you following me Malfoy?"

His icy eyes caught hers, and for an instant, she thought she saw a hint of pain in them. Then he took a deep breath.

"Granger, I need your help," his voice came. Smooth, clear, with a sharp edge on it – he sounded just like he always had.

"Well, it's not Granger anymore, and I'm not sure how I could help you either way," she said, putting her hand on her hip. Just then, the grape jelly slipped out of her fingers and landed with a resounding crash on the floor. Hermione brought her hand to her forehead and massaged her temples for a second. By the time she opened her eyes again, she saw Malfoy's wand and heard him mutter a very quiet, "_Scourgefy_."

"Thanks," she said. "You shouldn't have done that, though."

"I know."

"They're going to come over here and ask if everything's alright, and then they're not going to be able to find whatever it was that fell on the floor – Malfoy, put your bloody wand away!" she lowered her voice during the last sentence as she saw the same old lady round the corner and come walking up the aisle towards them.

He slipped his wand into his trouser pocket fast enough, and within a couple seconds the woman was inquiring, "Everything alright here?"

"Yes, thank you," Hermione smiled at the lady.

The employee nodded her head and seemed to search the floor for a second before shaking her head and walking away.

"Please," Malfoy said when the woman was gone.

Hermione shrugged. "What do you need?" she asked in a cynical tone. She was positive that there was definitely nothing she could do to help him.

"A divorce," he whispered.

Ah, well, she was wrong, then.


	3. Chapter 3

Alone Together

**Alone Together**

She sat stiffly in her leather chair. Her pressed white shirt was buttoned up to the neck, and her fitted blazer buttoned up to the bust as well. Her legs were covered in stockings and a knee-length skirt, not to mention the fact that they were hidden underneath her big wooden desk. Her hair was tied up tightly into a French twist on the back of her head, and the cold hairstyle reflected her feelings toward her specific client that day.

However, all coldness fled from her body when the door opened. She felt a rush of heat pass over her head like being hit by an ocean wave. Her breath caught in her throat, and suddenly, even with all of her conservative clothing, she felt naked in his sight.

She shifted uncomfortably.

He strode in the room looking much less desperate than he had looked the day before. He was dressed fully in black, and the effect on his already slim body was one of awe. He looked so dignified and poised, she couldn't help but be impressed. His hair was freshly trimmed, because she was sure it had been longer the day before.

She reached for her glass of water and took the liquid into her mouth welcomingly. She frowned at the inexplicable dry mouth that she suddenly had.

_Greet him, Merlin! Tell him to take a seat, Hermione,_ something in her head told her.

"Ahem, Granger?" he was staring at her through wide eyes, looking thoroughly confused.

She snapped out of it at once. "Malfoy, I told you," she said sternly. "It's not 'Granger' anymore."

"Oh right, you and the Weasel have wed, then," he said coyly, placing himself in the armchair across from her arrogantly.

"Don't talk about my husband like that!" she berated. She was definitely reconsidering her choice to help him. "Just because you hate your spouse…"

He winced, and she realized how deep that had cut.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"No, it's true," Malfoy tightened his jaw and looked at the corner of the desk. "Why else would I be here?"

His tone was pained and cynical, and Hermione had pursed her lips. She wondered how he had come to be such an unhappy individual, even with the fact that he had access to anything he could ever want.

"Well, let's get to it, then," Hermione said, hoping to get him busy enough to be distracted. For some reason she didn't like seeing Draco Malfoy looking weak.

"_Scorpius, are you ready?"_

"_Of course."_

_The child had a strangely cold demeanor. Draco couldn't help but wonder if he'd been that way as a kid._

"_Do you think I'll be in Slytherin, Father?" he asked, his tone more like that of a normal child. _

"_I would bet my life on it," he answered. And he was telling the truth. There wasn't a Malfoy in the last hundred years who'd been in a house other than Slytherin. _

"_You don't think I'm too smart?" Scorpius asked, sounding harshly arrogant for his age._

"_Too smart for Slytherin? Impossible!" Draco told his son with a light chuckle. "Ravenclaws are smart, sure, but in the brainy way. You're smart with logic and wit, you'll be a Slytherin for sure."_

_Scorpius smiled complacently and folded his arms across his chest. _

"_Pansy, dear!" Draco shouted. He tried to be civil to her when his son was around. "Pansy, we're ready! Let's go!" _

_All was silent for a few moments._

"_Have the elf bring your things to the portkey, Scorpius," he said briskly before beginning down the long hallway. He was not prepared to deal with his wife today – his temper was already stretched tight._

_He opened the door to her bedroom (they had long ago stopped sleeping in the same room, because it made her adultery much more difficult to carry out and more difficult for him to deal with). She was sprawled out on the bed, looking like a skeleton._

_He grabbed her wrist, just to be sure, and when he felt the pulse he took out his wand and sprayed water in her direction. She woke up with a start, then realized who was visiting._

"_What do you want?" she said, wiping her face off to stop the water dripping. _

"_We have to be at King's Cross Station in thirty minutes, so get ready. Now."_

_He walked out of the room. She looked terrible, even more terrible than she always had. He leaned on the wall and put his head in his hands. This could not go on._

_He made the choice then that he would end it._

"And you're sure about all of this?" she asked him. It seemed hard to believe that Pansy Parkinson would sink so low. Even for her, it was pretty bad.

"Absolutely," Malfoy nodded his head. "I've cleaned them up day after day for the last six years."

"Wow," Hermione breathed. Then something occurred to her.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked. He held his hands out wide, signaling that she was free to fire away. "If this has been going on for so long – "

His face tightened and he cut her off. "Tell me something. You have children, too. You must know how difficult of a decision it is to take them away from one of their parents, you must be able to imagine how selfish it would feel. Would you leave him, even if you were dreadfully unhappy?"

"RON!" she screamed. The room was filling up with steam and her head was spinning. Her fists clenched so that her nails dug into her palms, the pain was not dulled. She screamed out again as she felt another tightening – the pain shooting through her whole body.

_She felt like her sweat was much too large to exit her pores. It dripped down her face – down her nose and off her chin, down her neck. In between her breasts. Down her legs, in the place behind her knees._

_Her skin was flushed. More than flushed. Her skin was burning. Her eyes were closed so tightly that she thought that certainly she would not be able to open them once it was over._

"_RON!" she screamed again. She felt the tears rolling out of her eyes, and she heard whisperings to keep calm. _

"_Calm your breathing," the voice was saying. But the voice was distant. It echoed around her head and made it pulse even more painfully. _

"_RON! RON PLEASE HELP ME!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She felt her throat's soreness, it being torn from all of her yelling._

"_Dear, he isn't here," the voices were telling her. "Breathe in, breathe in like this." _

_She heard three or four people breathing in unison, three shallow breaths in, and then one long one out. Three in, one out. She tried, but the breaths kept coming out as screams instead._

"_Hold on dear, you're almost there," the woman closest to her said. "Just a little bit more before you can start pushing." She felt a hand on her forehead, probably wiping off the sweat. Her hair was dripping wet, so she didn't see why it mattered that her forehead was sweaty._

_Hermione felt the tears rolling harder now, and knew that she was alone. _

_Where was her husband? Why was he not here for her, even now?_

It was unbelievably foggy at the station. He couldn't even see the train, much less any of the people on the platform with him. All of the voices were distant.

_Then, he heard one that he recognized. _

"_He doesn't mean it," she said. Her voice was welcome to his ears, if simply because it was familiar, he didn't know. _

"_Look who it is," said another voice that he knew as well._

_There, in the small patch of clearing mist, stood a group of people so painfully familiar to him. He felt a pang of sadness that they were still friends – he didn't have any friends anymore. If he ever did, that was._

_He stared in their direction, but mostly at the one whose voice he'd heard first. He knew very well what she did for a living, and it occurred to him that maybe she would help. _

_Because she simply had to. He needed her to._

"_What time will you be home tonight?" she asked him, almost uncertain if she wanted to know the answer. For it was still dark out, the morning's light had not yet broken, and he was bending over her, still in bed, kissing her goodbye. _

_It was like this every morning. And she knew the answer to her question already._

"_I don't know," he said. "Late, probably. Harry and I – " He went on to explain the detailed task that he and Harry would be carrying out that day, and of course it was a valid reason for him to be home late. _

"_Late" meaning early, as her experience told her, because he usually didn't come home until the very small hours of the morning. _

_  
And yet, here he was, leaving again, only a couple hours after he'd come home the night before._

"_I have to go," he smiled. "See you."_

_And with a peck on the cheek, he disapparated. _

_She laid her head back down on the pillow and smiled sadly. It was interesting how she didn't miss his warmth from the bed any longer, how she had become so used to him being gone._

_A baby cried from the bedroom next to hers, and she rose quickly to attend her daughter's needs._

_It was the start of another day, and she would make it through – alone – again._

She studied his face. She wondered how he'd known to say that to her. She felt a panic at the thought that he knew more about her than she'd thought.

She didn't answer him, and a look of dawning understanding fell into his eyes.

He stood abruptly.

"Thank you for your help, but I have to go. Tomorrow?" he said quickly.

She shook her head briefly with confusion, then opened her mouth and heard herself say, "Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

Freedom

**Freedom**

She woke with the light of the sun coming in through her windows pleasantly. She breathed deeply, then pulled the covers back and swung her legs around to he side of the bed.

She went into Hugo's room and saw that he was still asleep. His little mouth hung open peacefully, and she couldn't help but feel the swelling in her chest when she looked at him.

She shut the door as quietly as she could and walked to the kitchen. Taking out a bowl and pouring some cereal, she settled down at the table to eat her breakfast quietly. Her right arm reached for the slip of paper on the table, and sliding it to herself she read the messy handwriting, "Harry and I are on a case about a dark wizard down in Italy. We might be gone a couple days. Don't worry about me. Love you, Ron".

She sighed. It wasn't that uncommon for him to leave for days at a time, and sadly not uncommon for him to let her know beforehand. He'd long since stopped waking her to say goodbye in the morning.

She finished her cereal and rinsed the dishes in the sink. It was seven-thirty by the time she was finished, and she knew it was time to start getting dressed.

She stripped off her pajamas, laying them neatly in her hamper, and stepped in for a nice, warm shower. When she got out, she stood dripping with a towel wrapped around herself in the walk-in closet that she shared with Ron.

She moved the towel so that it was wrapped around her head and began dressing. She decided against the usual stockings and went for a more comfortable flowing skirt that reached just above her knees. For absolutely no reason at all, she felt daring and slipped on a silky maroon blouse that had a scandalously low neckline for a married woman. She definitely would never have admitted that she chose her clothing for a particular reason, although she couldn't deny even to herself that she was in dreadful need of some attention.

She applied a drying spell to her hair and left it to flow smoothly around her shoulders, then went back to Hugo's room to wake him.

"Mummy, you're so pretty," he told her as he took her hand to Side-Along Apparate to his babysitter's house. Hermione smiled appreciatively and suppressed the hope that someone else would think so too.

He saw already sitting in her office for ten minutes by the time she got there. The shock on her face when she walked in the door was priceless, and he couldn't help but snigger childishly at his little prank.

"Malfoy," she said in a high-pitched, obviously stunned tone. "Uh, what are you doing here so early?"

He smirked at her. It was as if she was trying to be nice. "Have you forgotten that I want a divorce from my dreadful wife? Or did you just think that I didn't want it badly enough to be early?"

Surprisingly, she chuckled a little and sat down. As she flipped her hair around to her back, he noticed her lightly freckled neck and the overly exposed chest below it. He felt his heart rate quicken, and promised himself that it was only because he hadn't been with a woman in a very, very long time.

"I have the papers," she said as she bent over and reached into her drawer to pull them out.

He looked at them and felt a weight lift off his chest. He might actually go through with this, and then at that thought, he might actually be free.

"I'll sign them," he said eagerly.

"Don't get too excited, she has to sign them too," Hermione told him.

He caught himself immediately. Had he just referred to her as Hermione, even if it was only in his head?

He shook it off, telling himself that it was only because he lacked another name for her, seeing as Weasley was already taken and Granger was no longer applicable.

"Of course," he nodded. He felt exhilarated for the first time since he could remember. Seeing those documents, those legalized sheets of freedom, gave him more hope than he knew possible. He actually smiled at her, a real smile.

She smiled back awkwardly, as if she were very confused at why they were exchanging smiles at all.

Then he thought of something.

"Am I going to get to keep my son?" he asked, frowning.

"It will be a matter left up to the Wizengamot," she said. He felt his face twist in fear and realized that it was the reason for her to continue. "But I think you will," she assured. "As long as you have proof about your wife's… activities…"

She began blushing at that moment, and he could help but watch as she color spread from her cheeks to her neck and her chest. He wasn't sure why she was blushing, but he hoped that she would continue.

He checked his thoughts immediately. It was absolutely preposterous for him to be thinking of her in a way that suggested anything other than dislike… although, she was helping him.

And she had saved his life, or rather, her best friend had, that terrible night at Hogwarts so long ago.

But then, he had saved hers, too. When the Snatchers had come to his home asking for the identities of the three of them, and he had pretended not to be sure.

Of course, it really hadn't made that much of a difference, because they'd tortured her anyways, and would have killed her if she didn't get away.

But he'd tried to spare them some time, even if it was only by stalling at the beginning.

His stomach churned with the memories of those times. He was young, yes, but was that an excuse? He'd done terrible things, and he knew it. The think he didn't know was why.

And he didn't know why he was staring at Hermione Granger – or Weasley, rather, but for some reason that wouldn't register in his mind – in a rapturously intent way, and even more so, why she was staring back.

"Sign these," he said as he thrust the papers and a quill into his practically unconscious wife's hands. He knew she would have no arguments – she was too sedated at the moment to disagree at all. "I'm going, Pansy, do you understand me? I'm leaving now, and I'm not going to come back. These are the divorce papers."

She scribbled her name messily in the seven different places marked with a green X, and then dropped the quill back into his hands with a self-satisfied look on her face.

He thanked her with an almost sad smile and told her goodbye, and with that he left her. He left the prison that he'd been living in for the past eighteen years and walked into the cool fresh autumn air feeling better than he'd ever felt before.

He apparated to Diagon Alley with all of his belongings and got a room at The Leaky Cauldron, where he sprawled out on the bed, practically delirious with the elation that had overcome him.

Then he did something very absurd indeed.


	5. Chapter 5

A Friendly Accord

**A Friendly Accord**

A knock at the door startled her out of the trance that she'd been in while reading the latest edition of _Hogwarts: A History_. She straightened her blouse as she hopped up from her chair.

When she swung the door open, she was very surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing at the entrance to her office once again.

"Umm, Malfoy," she said in a high pitched note. "Is everything okay? I mean, what are you doing here?"

For all of the confusion written on her face, she was sure there was more written on his.

"I – I'm not really sure," he frowned. "I guess I just didn't know what to do…"

"Did she sign them?" Hermione asked, with wide eyes.

Not that she cared all that much, she convinced herself. Just trying to make conversation, of course.

"Yes," he nodded, smiling like a small child. "Oh, do you need them back?" he asked after a second.

Hermione nodded. "Well, yes, I do need them. But it's quite alright if you haven't got them now – Malfoy?"

His eyes shot up to hers. He seemed to have drifted off mentally for a moment there.

"Would you care to sit down? I mean, you seem a little – "

"Thanks," he said as he strode past her and plopped down in the chair that he'd occupied that same morning.

"No, it's fine," she said, politely sitting down across from him. She liked that place, in her chair, because it made her feel professional again. Unlike the way he was looking at her, with a slight grin on his face, which made her feel very much like a little girl.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked before summoning two cups of tea. She pushed one towards him and he took it into his hand, but didn't bring it to his mouth.

"I don't know why I'm here," he said suddenly.

"That's okay, a lot of people feel lost after they've been through something – "

"No, you don't understand," he cut her off. "I'm not traumatized… I'm just – Granger I'm finally free!" His last thought was expressed with a look of rapture on his face, as if this freedom was most definitely the best thing on earth.

"Well, not quite yet," she said quietly.

His head snapped up and his face hardened. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's just that the divorce doesn't come into effect immediately," she explained. "It takes months, sometimes up to a year, for all of the legalities to be settled."

His eyes were wide with horror and he looked like he might burst into a fit of rage. He didn't even say anything.

"Sorry," she said after about ten minutes of anxious silence with her finishing her tea and him not touching his.

"I don't want this anymore," he said miserably. "It's already been too long…"

"Malfoy?" she asked. "I know I've already asked this, but why did you wait so long?"

He looked into her eyes for a moment before responding, "I was afraid."

Afraid? Afraid of what? Hermione couldn't think of what could possibly be frightening enough to keep him in such a terrible marriage.

"My father he – "

Hermione nodded. Of course.

"Sorry, I don't know why I came," Malfoy said again. He stood up and turned for the door.

"Thanks for your help," he said, reaching for the handle.

"It's not Granger anymore," Hermione said abruptly.

He turned to look at her with a perplexed expression.

"Before," she mumbled. "You called me Granger again. It's Weasley now."

"Right," he nodded.

_It's Weasley now._

The words rang in his ears. Why couldn't he come to grips with that change?

After all, everything else had changed, why not that too?

But for some reason, the fact simply would not solidify in his mind.

"Right," he nodded.

A silence. He looked at her face, the one that he'd seen for so many years but never actually known.

"Sorry," he said with an embarrassed smile after he realized that he was staring and not moving towards the door any more.

"Malfoy – "

"I really – sorry, you go first," he said awkwardly when they spoke at the same time.

"No, you go ahead," she said, and he noticed a slight blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Really," he insisted.

She smiled graciously. "Thanks," she said. "Listen, I was just going to ask if you wanted to get something to eat," she proposed abashedly. "I mean, I'm really getting hungry and I thought that maybe you'd like some company seeing as you're – "

"I would really like some, actually," he said, but she kept talking.

" – You know, maybe I should just forget it, I mean that would be really awkward – Wait, you would?"

He nodded. "I would," he confirmed.

"Well then," she smiled as she took in a deep breath.

He had the feeling that she was regretting asking at all because of the tension that hung in the air.

"Three Broomsticks?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh, that would be a lot of fun – I haven't been there in ages," she gushed.

"I'll meet you there," he said before Apparating to the agreed-upon place.

They sat down at a table and Hermione tried to keep her eyes off him. This was most definitely a bad judgment on her part.

Merlin, everyone could see her sitting here with another man – and Draco Malfoy even more – they might get the wrong idea and… ohh, Merlin. She felt a weight fall over her as she realized what it looked like.

She glanced up to him, just to see if he was as miserable as she was, so that in case he was they could just call it off right then.

But he looked exactly the opposite of miserable. He grinned at her as he unfolded the napkin and set it on his lap politely.

"The place hasn't changed much, has it?" he said in a nostalgic tone.

She smiled shyly. "Not really," she agreed.

They were both lost in their individual memories of the place, and Hermione giggled at hers.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," she shook her head. But he insisted. "Well, it's just that Ron used to have the biggest crush on Madam Rosmerta when we were younger," she explained, laughing a little afterwards.

He laughed too, then leaned in closer and almost whispered, "It wasn't only him."

Her eyes widened. "Really?!" she exclaimed delightedly. "You too? I didn't know that Draco Malfoy _did_ crushes."

"Well, she was the exception," he said, his face falling into a mock-offended expression.

Hermione glanced over at the bar and pointed briefly in that direction. "Do you reckon that's her daughter?" she asked, referring to the young bar-maid.

Malfoy shook his head. "Madam Rosmerta would never have children," he said resolutely. "I know, I asked her multiple times during fifth year to have mine."

"Well there you go!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Of course she wouldn't, who'd want to have kids with you?"

His face hardened suddenly and Hermione realized that she'd touched on a tender subject.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "This was probably a bad idea, I mean – "

"No," he interrupted. "It's fine, I just… It's nothing, never mind."

They both fell silent and remained so for several minutes.

"This is odd, isn't it," Hermione finally felt the need to break the painfully awkward quiet. "Being here, I mean. When our kids are right down the road – Oh, Merlin!" she exclaimed suddenly, and jumped up from her seat. She'd just remembered that she needed to pick up Hugo. Thanking the magic of Apparation and explaining herself quickly to Malfoy, she was about to Disapparate.

But Malfoy stopped her.

"Listen, Grange – sorry, I mean Weasley – well that just sounds funny. Okay. What I'm trying to say is, thanks. I really needed some company with all of this going on and – "

"It was nothing," she smiled kindly. "Listen, _Draco_," she made the effort to say his first name as a gesture. "Friends?" she held out her hand.

He accepted, and confirmed by repeating, "Friends."

"Right, then, as friends," she smiled again. "I wouldn't mind being company again sometime."

He smiled, painfully, she thought, because it was so genuine. "I wouldn't mind having you as company again either."

With that, she vanished, the tingling feeling left on her palm from where his flesh had touched hers.


	6. Chapter 6

Needing Each Other

**Needing Each Other**

"Morning, Hermione," she heard his voice for the first time in three days.

"Ron!" she exclaimed, almost tipping over the pan of crackling oil on the stove. "You're home!"

"Yep," he smiled. "And we got 'em good, too. Oh, Hermione, it was magical. You should've seen it, the way I sent those spells their way – " he danced around the kitchen, pretend-fighting to demonstrate his skills.

"Well, I'm very glad," she smiled and went back to her cooking as she poured some thick pan cake batter onto the hot pan.

"I'm going to go wash up," he called as he walked into their bedroom. "Can't wait for those pan cakes!"

She sighed. His homecomings were always like this. He would be all excited about his trip and tell her about it – of course, only minor details, because he was too riled up to actually have a real conversation. And then he would skip off without asking her how she was, or how the kids were while he was gone, or if she missed him or anything.

_Well,_ she thought. _It's a good thing he doesn't, because then what would I say? 'No Ron, I didn't miss you, because you're never around anyways. What's there to miss?'_

She chuckled and shook her head sadly. Then came the sticky padding of small bare feet, and she turned around to see her little Hugo, yawning, following his nose to the kitchen.

"Morning, honey," she said sweetly. He really was a darling.

"Morning mum," he said groggily. "Did I hear dad talking?"

Hermione nodded. "He's washing up for breakfast now."

"Oh," Hugo said, and Hermione detected a hint of sadness in his voice.

"All done!" she announced cheerily, hoping to distract him from the feeling that she knew too well. "Here hun."

He smiled thankfully and tucked in to his three small pan cakes, piled of top of each other in a neat stack with syrup dripping down the sides.

Ron emerged a few moments later, sopping wet hair, with a towel around his waist.

"Morning son," he nodded to Hugo. "Mmm, let's get some of those," he said, referring to the breakfast.

He ate without a word, and Hermione watched him the whole time. He didn't look up at her once.

She felt the sadness like a piercing in her heart. She didn't understand, why couldn't he just _look_ at her, just once?

She barely ate because she was too busy staring unblinkingly at her husband, who seemed to not notice her existence. Then, finally, when she could stand it no longer, she got up and went into her room without a word.

She sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands. A deep sigh came, but no tears. She had shed far too many tears already.

After a few minutes, she heard the door creak. She looked up to see Ron standing in front of the closed threshold, grinning at her in his childish way.

It wasn't long before he pounced on her, his towel falling away immediately, and began the emotionless routine that happened every once in a while, when he was feeling like it'd been too long. She felt nothing. No pleasure, no ecstasy, not even any pain.

She laid there, letting her husband do what he had the right to do, and continued to lay long after it was over, after he'd rolled off of her and dropped off to sleep.

Draco paced the room, knowing it must be done but dreading doing it all the same.

He had to write a letter to his son – he had to explain what was happening.

Scorpius, he began. It was a solid beginning, and he was satisfied.

_I need to tell you something, and I need you to try to understand_. Maybe those words were too strong for a ten year old. Maybe he should just come out with it, just tell him what was going on.

Shouldn't he at least ease into it, though?

He should probably ask how the boy was doing at school, come to think of it.

The applied a simple vanishing spell, and the sentence disappeared.

How is your first week coming? You're in Slytherin, like I promised you'd be – I got a letter from your headmistress. I am very pleased, as I'm sure you are also.

_I have some bad news, son. _He nodded. That was an adequate introduction to the subject.

_Your mother and I have gotten a divorce._ With a bolt of anger at the fact that it was not true, and he was not actually divorced yet, he vanished those words and replaced them with, _Your mother and I have begun the process of divorce._

He finished the rest of the letter with very much pain and bitterness, but tried to seem as confident and strong as possible. He sent promises that his son would remain in his care, and that they would not have to be parted – although, he was not yet sure of this.

He grunted as he plopped down on the rather uncomfortable bed in his hotel room after sealing the letter and sending the owl off with it. He needed a distraction.

His thoughts shifted to a certain lawyer friend of his, and he closed his eyes imagining her hand in his again. He laughed briefly at himself.

How insane was he? It was a bloody handshake, and he was going on about it like it was the best shag of his life.

The suggestion brought his imagination to life, however, and soon he sat up from his bed resolutely and forced the image out of his head.

She was married. So was he.

Hardly, he had to admit, but still.

They were friends, now, though. Maybe they could have dinner again.

_Just so I can have some human contact, of course,_ he told himself sternly. _It's not healthy to stay locked up out of sight. Anyways, I need a friend about now. And that's what we are now, right?_

He pulled a black cashmere sweater over the gray button-down shirt he was wearing, and, not bothering to tuck his shirt into his black trousers, let the bottoms of it show casually. He slipped on black leather loafers and ran a hand through his hair before Apparating to her office.

To his dismay, he was unable to Apparate directly into the room. For some reason, he ended up outside the door instead.

Well, it didn't matter much – although the fact that he was unable to Apparate successfully made him a bit apprehensive.

He knocked on the door. And again, when no reply came. It was silent.

He rolled his eyes. Of course. It was Saturday. She would be at home with her family at the moment.

He growled and Apparated back to his hotel room, thoroughly annoyed and – though he wouldn't likely admit it – disappointed.

Hermione heard him stir next to her, for she hadn't been sleeping. She'd been awake the whole time, partly because she couldn't sleep with his snoring, and partly because she hadn't been gallivanting about for days on end and therefore had more energy stored up.

She got out of bed before he did, and left the room silently after replacing her clothes.

Something inside of her throbbed painfully, and she didn't dare assess what she was feeling. Instead, she went into her son's room and asked him if he would very much enjoy a trip to the zoo ("Of course mummy! Is dad coming too?").

Later, after returning, she found Ron sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a tuna-fish sandwich.

"Hi," she said.

He looked up and grinned before returning to his snack.

No, he did not even ask where they'd been.

Hermione threw herself onto the sofa.

Why was she invisible to him? Why did he pay he no attention at all? Merlin, when did things get this way?

She needed a friend.

A thought came to her mind, and she quickly shook it out.

But then, slowly, she allowed it to re-enter.

Why not? After all, we are friends now, aren't we? 


	7. Chapter 7

Admitting It

**Admitting It**

She tightened her grip around the collar of her wool coat as she moved her other gloved hand to rap on the door three times.

The second she felt the wood underneath her knuckles, she believed it was a mistake.

What was she doing here? Oh, this was definitely a bad idea. Merlin, why did she keep making such dumb decisions?

But she didn't have long to think her mistake over. Within seconds, the door creaked open and she was greeted by the awfully nasty face of Draco Malfoy – the sneering, bitter one that she had known all through school.

Upon seeing her, though, his face seemed to soften immediately. He smirked a little with one side of his mouth – that signature smirk – and then opened it to say, "Hello."

The shy tone of his voice made her smile slightly, and she greeted him back the same way.

"Umm – oh, come in, of course," he stammered as he moved out of the way for her to come through the opened doorway.

"Thanks," she said, not making eye contact, but examining the floor instead. "I umm – "

"How did you – sorry, keep going," Malfoy gave a little chuckle. They had spoken at the same time once again.

"No, it's okay," she insisted. She didn't need to tell him that she didn't know why she was there, anyways.

"Well I was just going to ask how you knew I was here," he said, not seeming particularly angry that she was able to find him, however.

"Oh, I guessed, actually," she smiled. "I figured you'd have gotten out of the house as soon as you could, and this place just came to mind. The receptionist told me which room you were in."

"Oh," he nodded.

They both fell silent.

Hermione was sitting on his bed (a dreadfully uncomfortable one, she noticed as she shifted her weight a bit), and Malfoy was seated in a wooden chair near the corner of the room. They weren't that far apart, but still, Hermione reckoned they were far apart enough to not hear each other breathing. But she could hear him very well indeed, and it was making her uncomfortable.

She looked up at him and saw that he was intently examining his dark gray socks. For absolutely no reason, she examined them as well. Maybe – or it was what she hoped – it would distract her from the painful silence in the room.

"I – um – I dropped by your office today," he admitted. Hermione let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding, now that they were finally speaking.

"Really?" she asked. She wondered why he would have gone there. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, no I just – well, I wanted some company," he said.

"Oh," she nodded. She noticed a very light blush creep into his cheeks and felt a slightly deeper one creep into hers at the sight of it.

She was very unaware that Draco Malfoy ever blushed.

"It's Saturday, though," he continued about a minute later.

"Yeah," she agreed. Oh, Merlin, this was a painful conversation. Why were they so awkward around each other?

Well, then again, it would be rather strange if they weren't. Seeing as they hated each other all through life and had suddenly decided to become friends.

"I sent a letter to Scorpius today," Malfoy began a new conversation. She was grateful that he was good at starting conversations, because as soon as a silence began in the room, she was entirely unable to say anything.

"Really? I sent one to Rose a few days ago. She's in Ravenclaw – funny, huh? I always thought my kids would be Gryffindors for sure, seeing as I was one and so was Ron…"

He nodded. "He's a Slytherin," he said.

"Yeah, makes sense," she nodded too.

His head jerked up and his eyes caught hers. He smirked just a little bit before asking, "What's that supposed to mean?"

She chuckled. "Oh, nothing," she teased. Suddenly, she was in a very good mood. She would never say that it was because she was enjoying the fact that he was looking at her.

"Well, anyways," Malfoy continued. "I told him about – ahem – about Pansy and I." His voice seemed to have caught a little towards the end there. Hermione felt a pang of sadness for him, and was very surprised indeed to be feeling bad for the man who'd given her so much trouble all her life.

"Do you think he'll have a hard time with it?" she asked. Suddenly, she was imagining telling her kids that she was splitting up with Ron. She imagined that Hugo would have a very difficult time.

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, I was never very good at shielding him from her problems. I think he's known all along that we're unhappy together."

"Yeah," she nodded understandingly. She felt like Rose knew, too, how unhappy she was with Ron.

Suddenly, a jolt jarred her senses and she realized that she'd just admitted it to herself.

"Wow," she breathed out loud.

He looked over at her. "What is it? Is everything okay?"

"Umm, yeah, sorry, I just realized something," she stuttered. "It's nothing though, never mind."

Her mind raced so fast that she didn't even realize the room going silent once again.

She was unhappy with Ron? Well, she couldn't really say she was happy… Oh, Merlin, was it true? Was she truly suffering in the situation she was in?

She felt close to tears suddenly.

"Umm, Hermione?" he said awkwardly. She noticed that he was watching her, and therefore could see the plain look of horror that she knew must be on her face. She was touched, however, at him using her name. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but felt a tear slip down her face at the same time. She brushed it away, hoping he didn't see it, but immediately one replaced it. She let out a sob despite her will to remain calm.

Draco was terrified. He had never, ever been in the presence of Granger (_No – it's Weasley now. Hermione Weasley_) crying, let alone actually feeling something akin to sorrow for her.

He froze, completely unable to move, as she spiraled out of control. Suddenly, he felt himself get up and move to the place next to her on the bed.

"Don't cry," he said, trying to be comforting. _Please don't cry!_ he added in his head desperately.

His hand found her back, and he patted her softly. She let out another sob and began shaking uncontrollably.

Merlin, was this scary.

He moved the hand from her back to her waist, pulling her close to him. He tried not to feel the exhilaration that came with the feeling of her so close to him, and he tried even harder not to accept what it could mean.

She settled into him, crying into her hands as he held her tightly, and he couldn't help but feel like crying himself.

Oh, to feel a woman's body in his arms again was like heaven. It had been so long since he'd felt the soft curves, the gentle touch, the silky skin. His heart beat quickened.

He noticed that she was settling down, and took the opportunity to release her, no matter how much he didn't want to. He knew it would be a bad idea to let himself feel any more of what he'd already felt too much of.

"I'm so sorry," she said, drying the tears from her cheeks. "I better go."

She made a motion to leave, but he grabbed her wrist instinctively.

"Please stay," he said gently, hoping so much that she would agree.

She chuckled sadly. "Why? So I can cry all over you more?"

"I don't mind," he said truthfully. "_Hermione_, sit down."

He knew that using her name would help. And he was right.

She looked at him with her shining eyes, hinting greenly because of her freshly shed tears, and lowered herself back down beside him.

His hand didn't leave her wrist, and they sat in silence once more, this time not feeling so uncomfortable with the fact that there was nothing to say.


	8. Chapter 8

Something's Changed

**Something's Changed**

Hermione dropped Hugo off at the dare care center feeling very happy indeed.

It was Tuesday, and today was the day that she and Malfoy had decided to meet for breakfast.

Ron, of course, had not asked where she'd gone a few days before, and she didn't care to tell him. What was there to tell, anyways? She had a friend, and Merlin knows, she needed one.

She refused to admit, even to herself, that her happiness that morning came from the fact that she would soon be seeing him, however. She also refused to admit any reason at all for putting on a cute little sundress or putting her hair up in the way that looked most pleasing.

She buttoned her coat up snugly, for it was getting colder by the day as fall moved swiftly in to London.

As she moved around the house, collecting the things she'd need for work that day, she noticed a letter on the table. It was opened, and she supposed that Ron had received it earlier that morning. She recognized the hand-writing at once, and felt happiness flood her as she picked up the letter to read.

_Dear Mum and Dad (and Hugo, too),_ she read in her head.

I guess you've heard that I'm a Ravenclaw. I hope you're not too sad about me not being in Gryffindor. My house is really great. I've made a few good friends already. I think you knew a girl named Luna when you were at school, right? Well her daughter Myrtle is in my house (like she was, Myrtle tells me). She's kind of odd, if you ask me, but she's funny. She's named after a ghost who lives in the toilets, isn't that silly? I guess her mum was good friends with the ghost back when she was in school. Anyways, I think Myrtle and I will be good friends, too.

Dad, you were right about the food! It's wonderful. And Mum, you were right about the house elves being great company. They really are sweet.

Hugo, you're going to love it here.

I have potions class soon, I can't write much more.

Love,

Rose Weasley

Hermione smiled as she put down the letter.

Luna was married and had a daughter named after Moaning Myrtle?

Well, the last part didn't surprise her much.

She laughed, and making a mental note to write her daughter back soon, she Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Malfoy was standing near a café off to her right, and she smiled as she made her way over to him.

"Hi," she said.

"Morning."

"Are we eating here?"

He nodded.

After taking their places at a table under a bright orange umbrella, Hermione found herself telling Malfoy about Luna.

"Do you remember her?" she asked.

Malfoy chuckled. "How could I not? She was easily the oddest person to ever attend Hogwarts!"

Hermione grinned, remembering her good friend and how truly eccentric she was. "Yeah, she really was good fun," she agreed lightheartedly. "Well, then try to guess what my daughter told me in a letter this morning!"

"Umm, did she find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack finally?" he teased.

"No, she has a daughter, and she's named after Moaning Myrtle!" Hermione giggled.

Malfoy, however, didn't laugh. He got a rather odd expression on his face, Hermione thought. Then she remembered about his friendship with the ghost during their sixth year, when he was trying to find a way to kill their headmaster…

Her stomach dropped. What was she doing? Was she really befriending that horrible boy, the one who tried to kill Dumbledore?

She thought she might be sick.

"I was friends with Myrtle, did you know?" he said quietly.

Hermione looked up at him and nodded, feeling slightly better at the sight of his face, which was kind and thoughtful.

Maybe, she thought. He's not as evil as he always seemed.

"Yeah, I did know that," she said.

He nodded, leaving it at that. She wondered how he felt about it all, about what he'd done and how he'd lived the first 17 years of his life. She decided not to ask him, though, foreseeing how it might bring up bad feelings.

They ate in polite conversation, and slowly Hermione forgot her reservations about him. The subject of the past did not come up again, and somehow, Hermione actually began to feel quite comfortable, sitting there, conversing with her ex-sworn enemy.

Draco laid himself on the bed tenderly, as if a rough movement would destroy his good mood. He felt a strange exhilaration, even though she was gone and their time was over. The after effect of her smile, her laugh, gave him a warmth that lasted for hours.

Still, he refused to accept any of this. It wasn't possible for what was happening to be true, it simply wasn't, and he wasn't going to set himself up for disappointment.

He closed his eyes, as if to conserve the good feeling that might leak out of any opened orifice.

Ah, he was so happy.

He shook his head sadly, knowing that this was ridiculous. Then, as he'd done after every one of their meetings, he made the resolution to stop thinking of her as anything other than a friend.

An owl tapping on the window jarred him from his thoughts, and he rose to greet it.

The big dirt-colored bird dropped a letter on his desk, and after being paid a few nibbles of food, flew back out again.

Draco knew who the letter was from, and his apprehension made it difficult to even open the note. He knew he should, though, so he forced himself.

Father,

I am not surprised to hear about your split from mum. I have known for a long time that it would happen. I'm glad, really. I think we'll be happier without her, especially you.

I have one thing to say: You have terrible judgment in friends.

Draco's heart jumped. Had he heard about Hermione? He read on anxiously.

This young man, Goyle, says that you were friends with his father while you were at Hogwarts. If he is anything like his son, I can't see how that would be. He's cruel, father. And the biggest dolt I've ever seen. I would rather befriend a troll.

I hope you're doing well now that you're gone from mum.

I have to go, I'll write later.

Scorpius Malfoy

Draco laughed. Gregory Goyle's son, at Hogwarts. And a little replica of his father, it seemed. He laughed harder knowing that his son was right, that he did have bad judgment back when he was in school.

Well, he thought, his mind turning back to Hermione. At least something's changed.

The next day, Hermione sat at her desk, going over the numerous cases of unlawful magic usage, when she got a note from the Wizengamot.

Greetings Mrs. Hermione Weasley,

Please inform your client, Mr. Draco Malfoy, that the custody hearing will be held one week from today, on Wednesday September 20th, at promptly 9:00 am.

Thank you very much,

The Wizengamot

She made a mental note to let him know when they met for dinner that night, and then folded the note and put it in her coat pocket.

A few minutes later, Hermione heard the tapping of a beak at the window behind her. Turning around in her swiveling chair, she opened the window and let the owl in. It dropped two notes on her desk and helped itself to the bowl of owl feed near the window.

Hermione saw the familiar handwriting and smiled as she picked up the first note.

Hermione,

Lily is very happy that you were thoughtful enough to send her a birthday letter! Thanks for remembering, as always.

The other note is from her to Hugo, so please pass it on. She wants to invite him over for her birthday dinner tomorrow night and a game of Quidditch. Of course, it's fine with me. Lily needs a friend now that Albus is at Hogwarts, anyways.

If you want, I can pick him up tomorrow at the sitter's when I go out to get Lily's present.

Owl me back and let me know.

Love,

Ginny

Hermione smiled thinking of her sister-in-law and her sweet little niece. She immediately wrote back, letting Ginny know that the idea was perfectly okay with her, and that she would tell Hugo about it when she saw him that evening.

She tucked the still-sealed letter from Lily into her coat pocket with the note for Malfoy and set back to her work.

Her smile was exceptionally inviting that night, after he'd spent the whole day alone in his hotel room. She had her hair down again, and he thought she looked very nice in the coral sweater she was wearing.

They sat down at the table and immediately he began telling her of Scorpius' letter.

"He says he reckons we'll be happier without her," he said, grinning at his young son's immense maturity.

"Oh, good," she said, with her sympathetic eyes shining. "I'm so glad he's taken it well."

Draco nodded, still smiling. "He's also mentioned Goyle's son, and how he's just like his dad," Draco said with a chuckle. "Can't believe I was friends with that brute."

Hermione laughed. "Me either!"

They settled into a silence, and their food was served before they resumed conversation. They ate in silence, also, but somehow it was different for Draco. He didn't feel so tense, and he could breathe. It was more of a comfortable silence than a painfully awkward one.

About halfway through the meal, Hermione gave a little jump and reached into her pocket.

"Draco, I forgot! I got this note from the Wizengamot this morning," she said, passing a folded piece of paper over at him.

He glanced over it, and then smiled back up at her. "You sure? Ginny is part of the Wizengamot now?" he said in an amused tone.

"Oh, sorry!" she said, looking sheepish. She reached into her pocket and traded the letter from Ginny for another one. "Here it is!"

He took it and read it over a couple of times, trying to decided how he felt.

"Hermione?" he said after a stretch of quiet.

"Hmm?" she looked up from her plate.

"Does this mean that the divorce is close to being finalized?" he asked, hoping that she would say yes.

"Well, sort of," she said. "It's just this, and then the settlings of who gets what and so on."

He nodded. He didn't feel too nervous, so he figured it would be okay. He was a little bit excited, actually.

"So…" he said after another few minutes.

She flashed a smile at him, obviously feeling the same need to say something, but not knowing what, exactly.

"So your son is going to spend tomorrow night with Lily Potter?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I think they'll have a great time."

She paused, and he could tell she had something to say, but was unsure of whether she should say it or not. He looked at her expectantly.

"Well, it's just that… Hugo will have a great time, I'm sure, but seeing as Ron hasn't been home for a single evening since last Christmas, I'll probably be stuck at home alone," she said finally, realizing he wanted to know what she was thinking.

An idea entered his mind and he couldn't help but feel his pulse quicken.

"I could keep you company," he offered.

She smiled. "Draco…" she said.

"No, it's okay, I understand," he agreed, thinking she was turning him down.

"No, it's just – I wanted to say thanks," she stopped him. "You've been a great friend. And what with my crazy emotional breakdown the other night…" she started blushing.

With the mention of that night, he could almost feel her in his arms again. He felt a pulling feeling in his chest.

"Well, thank you as well," he said. "I don't know what I would have done…"

"There are other lawyers," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Not ones like you," he said before thinking. He felt a heat rise into his cheeks, and saw it reflected on hers.

She didn't say anything, but began moving her food around on her plate. The silence was the painful kind again.

"Are you – "

"Do you want – "

Draco laughed. "We always do that."

"Yeah…"

"Well, are you finished?" he asked.

She nodded. "Definitely."

She reached to pull out her money pouch, but he stopped her.

"Let me get this," he insisted.

"Draco, you don't have to – "

"I want to," he interrupted.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

He left the gold on the table and they rose to leave. When they got to the street, Hermione turned around and smiled at him. Before he realized what was going on, she had her arms around his neck and was hugging him tightly. After catching his breath and giving his heart a chance to start beating again, his hands found her back. He held her tightly, his eyes closing instinctively at the feeling of her so close to him. He was sure that he could stay this way forever.

His arms held her in the air for a few seconds in which he thought he would surely do something rash, before her arms began to loosen and he let her down.

"Thanks again, Draco," she said. As soon as the physical contact ceased, she Disapparated with a pop and was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

A Night Together

**A Night Together**

"Ron?"

"Yep?"

"Are you leaving already?"

"Of course, Hermione, I always leave at this time." His tone held a hint of exasperation.

"Kiss me goodbye?" It was more like a plea than an instruction.

"Ugh, okay, here," he leaned down and kissed her cheek before Apparating off to work without another word.

She brought her fingers up to touch the place on her cheek where his lips had just been and felt the familiar tightening in her chest. She sighed, mostly to stop her from breaking out in tears, and rolled over to try to go back to sleep.

It was no use, though. She kept hearing his annoyed tone over and over again, like he didn't even think she had the right to ask for a kiss goodbye.

She tried to tell herself that it was because he wasn't a morning person. He'd always been grumpy in the mornings – and now especially with him working so hard.

_And so much_, she added with scathing bitterness.

It was true what she'd told Draco the day before, about Ron not being home a single evening since Christmas. And she recalled, also, that he only agreed to take the day off because Harry had insisted on it.

She wondered if Ginny saw Harry as little as she saw Ron. She supposed so, since they did all of their work together for the most part. She felt kind of selfish, pitying herself when Ginny was going through the same thing.

Remembering Ginny, she thought of the night that her son had planned with his cousin. At least Ginny would have something to distract her tonight.

She sighed and pulled herself out of bed, deciding to get an early start on the already long day.

It was noon when she heard a knocking on the door of her office. She obliged, glad to take a break from the endless paperwork, and opened the door.

"I need help," Draco said as he walked in the room. He looked very anxious, and he didn't sit down like he usually did.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, alarmed at this sudden visit and at his state.

"It's Pansy," he said, not attempting to hide the pain in his voice as he spoke. "She wants to keep my son from me."

Hermione furrowed her brows and tried to think of what to say.

"She's stopped the Muggle drugs," he continued, when she didn't reply.

"What?"

"Yeah," he nodded and gulped noisily. "She's stopped and now she's just using cheering charms whenever she feels down. Which is most of the time, because apparently those Muggle pills give you something like… a kind of shaking and vomiting sickness when you try to stop them."

"Draco, how did you find out about this?" she asked, saying the first thing that came to her mind.

"She came by my room at the Cauldron. Wanted to let me know in person that she was going to put up a fight," he growled. Hermione could tell that he was very angry. "Anyways, she's going to hire a lawyer, too, and try to weasel Scorpius out of my hands."

"Well, we can't let her!" Hermione said simply.

"And how're we supposed to keep her from it?" he asked bitterly.

She was silent for a moment, thinking, then it came to her.

"Use a Pensieve! Show them all of your first-hand witnessing to all of Pansy's terrible actions! You can even show them the one from today!"

He stared at her for a second, then whispered, "Do you think it'll work?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure. Listen, Draco, don't worry. You deserve to keep your son, the Wizengamot will know that."

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. He sat down in the chair finally, and seemed to breathe for the first time in ages.

Hermione sat across from him and set to her paperwork again. He wasn't speaking, but she understood. He needed a little time to gather his thoughts.

She began the endless process of reviewing case files and sorting into pile specific to each type of case – the kind of menial labor that there certainly should have been a way out of using magic.

He opened his eyes after a minute or so, finally feeling calm. He saw her hands first, her thin and nimble fingers moving over paper after paper after paper. The hands traveled up to the arms, then the bare shoulders (her red sweater was an off-the-shoulder type). The tight, lightly freckled skin was stretched delicately over small bones, and flowed like silk up her slender neck and into her face. She had the right side of her bottom lip in her mouth and was frowning with concentration as her eyes darted over the small print of the words.

He decided against speaking, for he was content to watch her do this all day.

Draco had to wonder why she had agreed to help him, after everything he'd ever done to her, and all the names he called her. It was a mystery to him, especially because he would have never agreed to help someone who'd hurt him so much.

She was obviously a better person that him – more forgiving, more generous – he decided. That was the only thing he could come up with.

A horrible sense of guilt washed over him as he sat there watching her and remembering all of the things he'd done.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," he felt the need to say.

She looked up at him with a confused look on her face, and then said, "Draco, seriously, don't feel sorry. I don't mind you barging in here once in a while." She flashed a genuine smile at him and he smiled back a little.

"I meant – " he started to explain his outburst of apology, but she interrupted.

"I'm about done here. Let's go somewhere. I know, we could see a Muggle movie in the theaters!" she said as she stood up from her desk.

"A – a Muggle what?" Draco stammered.

"A movie," she explained. "I really can't believe you've never heard of one. It's… well, it's almost like a picture. It moves and everything, just a bit more than a picture does. And there's a story that goes along with the picture, too."

He nodded, trying to imagine, and she grabbed his hand. It startled him so much that he gasped loudly. She looked at him curiously and then said, "I'll Apparate us there."

They arrived behind a building in a deserted alleyway, and then walked around front. There were lights all over the building, some of them spelling out words and other ones flashing on and off to create designs of all colors. Draco reckoned about then that electicy, or whatever it was called, had to be some sort of magic.

Hermione, her hand still in his, pulled him into a crowd of people and they stood for a moment before she turned around and whispered, "We're standing in line. We have to buy tickets. Which movie would you like to see?"

He shivered. She had come so close to him to whisper in his ear, and after that, he certainly didn't care which picture they were going to look at. All he wanted at the moment was to feel her breath on his cheek, ear, and neck again.

"You choose," he said after staring at the Muggle pictures of each movie for a while. How was he supposed to know what the picture would be about if it didn't move yet? He was wondering, also, if they would stay here to watch it, or if someone would take it down from the side of the building and bring it somewhere else.

"What about this one?" she said, pointing to a picture of an Asian man and a black man. They were dressed as police men. The words in the picture said "Rush Hour 12".

He nodded. "That one's fine." He couldn't help but feel disappointed that she was talking in a normal voice now, and not whispering anymore.

Soon they came to a person sitting in a chair in front of a gray machine of some sort. There was a large window between them, and a hole in it near the bottom.

Hermione took out some pieces of paper that Draco recognized as Muggle money, and gave it to the person behind the window. The person gave her back two small white pieces of paper.

"Here, this is your ticket," she told him as she handed him one of the papers.

Hermione had removed her hand from his as she paid for the tickets, and now his hand was tingling in an itchy sort of way. He could actually feel his heart beating in his fingertips.

They walked around the small peninsula of the building where the window was, and reached a row of glass doors. There, a teenage boy took the tickets and ripped them in half, giving them back the other half and saying, "Left side, Theater 6."

They walked to the left and through a couple more doors underneath a sign with the number 6 on it, and Draco was surprised to see that it was very dark in the room.

"How are we supposed to see the picture if it's this dark," he whispered.

"Umm, well, the picture sort of lights up," she told him, giggling a little.

"Oh," he nodded, but he was still completely lost.

They sat about 7 rows back from the front of the large room, facing a big black square.

"Is that the picture?" he asked, pointing.

She nodded. "Yep. And it's about to start."

Sure enough, it lit up and things moved and there was a lot of sound from all around him. It was interesting, but he found the fact that her hand was resting on the arm rest right next to him even more interesting.

He touched her hand lightly, thinking that maybe it would stop tingling, but the feeling of her skin sent a chill up his arm and down his spine. As he sat there, though, wondering if he should take her hand again, she seemed to sense his dilemma. She reached her own hand over and grasped his tightly, and that was how they remained the rest of the movie.

"Now this is something I understand," Draco said as he poured some wine. They were in Hermione's kitchen, eating a dinner that they'd made together. He was still somewhat confused about the movie, Hermione knew, because he kept talking about how he didn't understand how it moved so much.

"Well, good," she smiled. "Glad to know you understand something."

He looked at her with mock hurt on his face. "I don't appreciate that very much," he said. "It's not my fault I was never immersed in Muggle culture."

"Oh, like you would have wanted to be?" she asked jokingly.

He smiled at her, his teeth shining, and said, "I might have."

She laughed, knowing it wasn't true but not caring so much, and took a bite of the mashed potatoes.

"Mmm, they're great!" she said. "Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

His face fell a little bit. "Well, Pansy never really did much cooking," he said.

Hermione looked down at her plate to avoid eye contact. She really wished she could stop bringing up awkward subjects.

Neither of them said anything for a while, but the tension in the air abated at least a little bit.

Hermione realized with a bit of dismay that she was almost finished with her food, knowing that once she was done she would have nothing to distract her anymore. Her took a sip of the wine and glanced over at his plate. It was empty.

Her eyes traveled up to his face, and she saw that he was looking at her. A slow blush crept onto her face and she bit her lip.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he smiled and looked around the room for a second, but then back at her again.

"Why are you looking at me?" she asked him after he didn't blink or look away.

"Because I like looking at you," he said. He was smiling fully now, but not shifting his gaze at all. She squirmed in her seat uncomfortably.

"I think you've had too much to drink, Draco."

She glanced at his glass, though, and it was still full.

"I've had none, actually," he told her.

She looked back down at her plate, trying to distract herself again, but she couldn't move because she knew that he was watching her.

"Draco, would you please stop it?" she asked, aggravated now.

"Can't," he said simply.

She raised her eye brows skeptically. "And why is that?"

"Because, if I stop looking at you, you might feel comfortable again. And I just can't risk the blush leaving your cheeks."

She blushed more furiously at his words. "What has come over you?" she asked.

He stopped smiling and looked away, finally. "Nothing," he said in a playful tone.

She stood up, now able to move again, and took their plates to the sink. Taking her wedding ring off carefully and laying it on the tiles of the counter, she rinsed his off and then her own. They took a while to rinse, because of the mashed potatoes sticking to the ceramic. After she was finished rinsing them, she waved her wand and muttered "Scourgefy" and the plates shined like new.

She turned back around to the table, but he wasn't there anymore.

"Draco?" she called, afraid for a second.

"Over here," he said from the living room.

She walked over there and found him sitting on the sofa. Well, she wouldn't exactly say sitting. It was more like lounging. He was sprawled out in a very dominant, aristocratic way, and she was reminded of him back in their Hogwarts days. His signature smirk set the whole thing off.

"Come here," he said, not moving at all.

She didn't know exactly where she was supposed to come to, because he was taking up the whole sofa.

"Where?"

He patted a place on the sofa, right in front of where he laid.

He wasn't sure what came over him, but he knew he had to do something. Because sitting there watching her eat was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he was desperately longing to feel her skin again, even if it only was her hand.

Call it insane, he didn't care. He was drunk with the sights and feelings she was creating, and he needed more of her.

She stood there, absolutely bewildered, and he wondered if maybe she was afraid.

Afraid of what, though? What exactly was he…

It hit him like a train, and he suddenly realized what he was doing.

"Sorry," he said, sitting up properly and putting his head in his hands. "I don't know why I'm acting this way. It's just that you make me so – "

"Draco don't, please," she said, kneeling in front of him.

He looked up at her and saw tears swimming in her eyes, and felt all the more terrible for having put them there.

"I didn't mean to try – "

"I don't think you understand, Draco," she said bitterly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You being here, it makes me so… you make me happy, Draco," she said. "And I haven't been happy in a long time."

"I want to make you happy," he said, even more drunk now knowing that she felt something too. He reached for her hands and took them in his own, feeling the soft skin between his hands like silk. His heart seemed to have been hit by lightening, because it was beating sporadically – fast and slow and not at all, at that same time.

She was trembling, and her hands in his were shaking more than anything. She couldn't actually believe the words had come out of her mouth, but they seemed so right nonetheless. It was true, she felt happy with him, and no one, especially not Ron, could make her feel happy.

So she stopped crying. She steadied her breathing and her hands began to steady as well. Her eyes met his and stayed there, attached with some invisible beam of electricity.

She moved closer and brought her face to meet his, letting her lips touch his softly, for even a gentle touch sent her heart racing. She felt him react, leaning into her and keeping the contact. He brushed her lips with his and she opened her mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen.

She was surprised to taste him, because she had never really imagined a kiss tasting so sweet. Their tongues met gently and rolled over each other and she was able to taste him even stronger.

She felt him move off the sofa and lay next to her, but she didn't open her eyes. She followed his lead and laid on the floor, continuing to kiss him passionately. His arms were around her and her hands were in his hair.

She felt with a slight shock that her wedding band was missing, and remembered it there on the counter. Somehow, the thought made her smile, and she kissed him that much harder.

She had never felt the pulses of electricity that were shooting now through her body. Her skin burned pleasantly on her back where his hands rested, and somewhere deep inside of her was longing to have him fully.

She rolled, her back on the ground now and him on top of her, and with him craning over her delicately, she began to unbutton his shirt. He seemed to take the hint and his mouth left hers as he bent down to kiss her neck, lowering his kisses with each button unclasped. When their flesh was touching, with nothing in between, she let out a moan and brought his face up to meet hers again.

Every second made her want him more, and before long she was having her wish, and having it better than she could have ever imagined it.

Afterwards she laid in his arms, smiling slightly and breathing calmly. She grabbed his left hand and slowly slid the golden band off his finger, explaining softly that she wasn't wearing hers, either.


	10. Chapter 10

Pensieve

**Pensieve**

It was the kind of thing she never expected of herself. It was the kind of thing she never ever imagined herself doing, or even thinking about in fact. And yet, there she was, surprising herself more and more each second as she blatantly lied to her husband.

"You know, just sort of hung out here. Did some cleaning and such," she said, a small grin on her face for an inexplicable reason. "How about you? You and Harry have a right adventure last night?"

Ron's face cracked into a big smile and his eyes got all wide as he began to tell her about the riot that occurred in Hog's Head and all of the bashing and hexing they did to put it down. She nodded and smiled at him as she wiped the counter over with a wet sponge, not really listening to what he was saying. She was remembering the night before, and the prospect of a reoccurrence on this night.

"So why are you home from work today?" she asked absentmindedly once he'd stopped yapping.

He looked at her curiously and held up his arm, showing a big bandage from elbow to fingers. "Broke by a chair leg," he said. "Some banshee threw it at me hard, and broke the ulna or whatever. Had to take some Skelegrow early this morning, and the folks at the Ministry reckon I should take the day off to let it heal properly."

Hermione nodded, feeling her stomach sink very slowly in a sickening manner. So he would be home tonight, for once.

"Well, I'll have to cook you up a nice dinner to help you get better," she said, trying to sound like a cheery wife. He smiled goofily at her and nodded in agreement.

Hermione got out of that kitchen as fast as she could, the overwhelming feeling of sickness knowing at her every time she heard him breath or saw him move out of the corner of her eye.

She went "for a walk", which very quickly became a trip to Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, where she could find the one person to make her feel better.

She knocked at the door of his room and waited anxiously for him to answer, running her hands through her hair impatiently. Finally she heard a floorboard creak and the door knob turned.

"Hermione," he said, his gray eyes full of a nice surprised look. "What, um, what're you doing here… this early?"

She smiled and saw that he was dressed in a long bed robe and sleeping pants. Apologetically, she said, "Oh, sorry, Draco, did I wake you?"

He nodded but smiled back. "It's okay, I don't mind. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, I just had to get out of that house," she groaned as she sat down on his bed. "Ron's home from work today," she explained.

"Oh, that's really… unfortunate," said Draco, looking disappointed.

"I know what you mean," she said. Then, for no reason at all, she began to giggle. Giggle like a little school girl, and she couldn't stop.

Through teary eyes she saw him looking at her with a confused look on his face, but smiling broadly as well. She pulled herself together to try to explain her burst of hilarity.

"It's just that – that I was thinking – how unfortunate it is – how unfortunate that my husband is – is going to be home tonight – and I've been – been wishing for him to – be home for years now – and now he's going to be – I don't want him anymore!" she said in broken fragments as she struggled to control her laughter. "I'm disappointed that my husband will be home – because it means I won't be able to spend the night – with – with you!" she screeched before falling into another uncontrollable fit of laughter.

It was all very strange, of course, because the things she was thinking of were not hilarious in the least bit, and yet she could not stop her delirious laughter. It was like she'd finally fallen off the edge.

She laid on his bed, shaking every few seconds with another soft chuckle, before she was finally able to control herself again and sit up. She looked in his eyes, still smiling, but was met with a very somber look.

"I don't know what's going on with you, Hermione," he said. "I don't get it, why's all this so funny?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes, Draco, people have to laugh to keep from crying," she answered, shaking her head tiredly. All that laughing had worn her out considerably.

"Listen," she said after a moment. "I just wanted to let you know that we won't be able to see each other tonight. But come by the office tomorrow and we'll talk about dinner or something."

He shook his head. "Tomorrow's Saturday," he said.

"Of course," Hermione nodded her head. "Monday, then."

Draco smiled a bit and then moved toward her and pressed his lips against hers. "And what if I don't want to wait until Monday to have you again?" he asked, moving his hands to rest firmly on her waist, holding her tight like one might hold a small child. His thumbs rubbed her ribs softly and he bent his head to kiss her on the stomach, her blouse being moved up just a bit.

She giggled at this sudden burst of affection – she wasn't used to this sort of thing – and put her hands on either side of his face.

"Then maybe I'll surprise you a bit early," she said before planting a soft kiss on his mouth and then getting up from the bed.

"I've got to be off to work," she said. "See you soon."

He smiled sweetly with a look of rapture on his face, and she disapparated with a small pop and was gone.

Hermione stopped off at a wizard grocery store inside Diagon Alley before going home that night, looking to buy ingredients for dinner that night.

She walked through the aisles, pondering what to buy. Of course, things like this worked differently in the Wizarding world. No one actually bought the ingredients, but instead bought little bits of things to transfigure into them. Wizards had worked for a long time, trying to figure out which things worked best.

For instance, if one tried to transfigure a raw chicken out of a bit of parchment, it would go terribly awry most of the time, being that parchment usually transfigured into bread best. For chicken, one would most often purchase a bottle of sand, and just about every ounce equaled one very nice sized chicken. Vegetables were most often transfigured out of fabrics, such as cotton or felt, if not grown naturally in the wizard's very own garden, which was the norm for things like that.

Hermione knew all of this, of course, having been a wife and mother for a good time now. But as she walked the aisles, looking at all of her different options, she scrunched her nose up at every one of them, being not in the mood for much of anything.

She knew what she was in the mood for. She was quite certain that she could eat a dinner composed of only chocolate ice cream.

She laughed, knowing she was crazy, and picked up a small piece of cardboard that would make a lovely pizza crust, and some ingredients for the cheese and sauce as well. It would be pizza that night, whether or not she wanted chocolate ice cream.

After a very nice dinner with her family, Hermione tucked her son into bed and opened up the cupboard, looking for something she could transfigure into her delightful craving. In the very back she found just the thing – a tin full of cocoa seeds. She looked at the thing fondly, not having seen it since before she had Hugo, and opened it up.

A nice big bowl of rich chocolate ice cream, with chunks of whole chocolate in it and everything. She was a master at creating the perfect chocolate ice cream, having done it so many times before. She spooned a bit into her mouth, feeling the way the cream melted delightfully in her mouth and letting out a small moan of happiness. This was by far the best ice cream in the world.

She went to bed after the treat, brushing her teeth thoroughly as her dentist parents had taught her to. She laid next to Ron, him already asleep for the last hour, and let herself drop off to a peaceful sleep, happily anticipating the next day.

It was now Saturday evening, and only three days away from the hearing. Draco had been searching for a Pensieve for days, looking in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, all of the Wizarding magazines… He finally decided that he would have to take a leap of faith and go into Knockturn Alley – for there, one could find any strange and rare item.

He dressed very sharply, hoping to intimidate any old nasty witches or wizards he might encounter on the street. Walking the alleys in a determined and dignified way, no one approached him at all.

13B Knockturn Alley, he finally approached, and knowing the place well, he walked in feeling a bit more comfortable.

Of course, old Mr. Borgin had passed quite a while ago, and the shop was now run by a slightly less deranged young man.

He only had to search for a few moments before finding what he needed. A big Pensieve, plated in silver, with intricate designs of ivy and spirals all around the rim.

Picking it up, he brought it to the counter to pay the man.

"Aren' you Mr. Malfoy?" the store owner asked, an eye brow cocked.

"Draco Malfoy," he corrected. "Mr. Malfoy would be my father."

"Righ' well, I've been wonderin' when I'd see some of your family again. Used to come around here a lot, didn' you?"

Draco nodded. "I guess my father did quite a bit of business with Mr. Borgin while he was still here, yes," he said. He wasn't sure why this man was making conversation with him. It wasn't usual for store clerks in Knockturn Alley. He handed him the gold and hoped it would end there.

"I guess you've been busy though, righ', what with the divorce and you seeing this other woman an' all?" he said as he took Draco's money and shoved it in the register.

Draco froze. "What did you just say?" he asked, his eyes becoming saucers and his mouth drying out quite a bit.

"Oh, I've jus' heard all the news, that's all," he said. "What, isn' it true?"

Draco frowned and said a very stern "No", of course lying but feeling that he had the right to, when this unknown acquaintance was asking him such questions. He walked out of the store in a very sour mood, not saying goodbye or thank you to the owner of Borgin and Burke's, and Apparated back to his room, unwilling to walk all the way through the town again.

Finally home with the object, he began the task of emptying his memories of Pansy into the basin. When he was finished, silvery liquid floated around in the bowl with an eerie glow, and Draco laid down to rest.

He shut his eyes and began to have the strangest dream, one where things are so real you could almost reach out and grasp them. But, annoyingly, he couldn't remember a bit of the dream when he woke to the sound of a knock on the door an hour later.

Draco opened the door to find Hermione, cloak pulled tight around her body and shivering slightly, but smiling nonetheless.

"Told you I'd surprise you," she said as he welcomed her in.

"It's not much of a surprise if you warn the person beforehand," he joked. Pointing his wand at the fireplace, he conjured some warm flames for his trembling guest. "I'm glad you came, though."

She shut the door firmly behind her and shook off her cloak and jacket. "It's so freezing out there! Like winter already, almost!"

He wrapped his arms around her and felt her ease into him, relaxing slowly. Holding her gave him this electrifying feeling, and before he could stop himself, he had thrown her down on the bed and began kissing her neck all over, letting his lips travel down to her neck line before stopping to come up for air.

When he looked up at her, her cheeks flushed and smiling, her eyes heavy in a pleasured manner, his efforts were renewed and he kissed her chin, her jaw, and finally her lips.

Her enthusiasm in return was perhaps more than he'd expected, because as soon as their lips met she rolled over and pinned him beneath her, taking control of the position. He laid there, pleased beyond belief, as she moved on top of him, kissing him passionately as she ground her hips against his.

He didn't let her control him for long, and just after he managed to get her blouse unbuttoned and slipped off, he rolled back on top of her.

Bending her knees, he settled himself in between and kissed down her neck and chest while his hands crawled up her thighs, her moaning under him delightfully.

They could have extinguished the fire about then, because the room was a furnace and neither of them had the slightest bit of cold in them any longer.


	11. Chapter 11

The Hearing

**The Hearing**

She was poised and dignified, unlike he'd seen her in quite a long time. Possibly unlike he'd ever seen her at all.

Her black hair was pin-straight and reached her jaw, her dark blouse was ironed and buttoned up high to the neck. She looked formidable.

And for the first time, Draco was actually afraid she would win.

His hands were clenched in his lap, reacting negatively both to the nervousness and the lack of a comforting hand in his.

He wished Hermione could be there with him, but he well knew that it would get around to the Weasel if she was publicly defending him in trial. And if she was acting as his lawyer, they were definitely speaking, and if they were speaking then there was something strange going on, and if Ron could make it that far he could guess the rest. He didn't need this to end so soon, especially since she was the only thing keeping him together.

So he sat alone. Alone, staring at his wife, wishing to disappear.

The room hushed suddenly, a chilling silence falling over them, and the presiding Wizard stood and announced himself. It was the Minister of Magic, Matthias Margle.

The man was kind-looking, as Draco had heard, but something told him that he was going to have some trouble regardless.

As the proceedings began, Pansy's top-of-the-line lawyer (who Draco was sure he'd seen in the hallways of his home at least once, no doubt visiting Pansy for a very personal consultation) started spouting off nonsense like: "Pansy is the child's mother and natural guardian" , "She protected him in the womb, why should his childhood be any different" , "Mr. Malfoy is unreliable and not equipped to raise a child".

Draco was seething, but he kept himself under control with the knowledge that he could hunt the man down and repay him at any time.

The Minister turned to Draco and said eight words, "What do you have to say, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco cleared his throat and stood from his chair. Picking up the heavy silver basin and brought it to the high podium in which the Minister stood.

"Take a look, Minister. I'm sure these facts will sway your memory."

"Mr. Malfoy, I hope you are aware of the punishments for memory modification for legal purposes? Because a Pensieve can hold very swaying evidence indeed, if the evidence is without fault or blemish…" he seemed to threaten Draco.

Draco nodded, however, fully aware of the rules and completely confident in the purity of his memories. "I can assure you, Mr. Minister, that my memories are clear and unblemished. Just take a look and you will see," he beseeched.

The old man eyed him doubtingly, but nodded. "Alright, alright, I'll have a look."

The Minister sunk his head into the bowl, and Draco felt a chill go down his back. He was suddenly very nervous. All of the members of the Wizengamot, old Witches and young-faced Wizards, youthful maids and stale old geezers. There were many, and every set of eyes on him (except for a certain man, who seemed unable to control one of his eyes completely as it was sailing around in its socket, unfocused on any thing in particular and always moving). He walked backwards to his seat and sunk into it, both with the feeling of anxiety and a strong discomfort from all of the watchful Witches and Wizards.

Minutes ticked by painfully slow. Draco felt a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead and in the pits of his arms, making him shift uncomfortably and feel self-conscious. A bead dripped in slow-motion from his brow, down his temple and along his jaw, and dropped off of his chin onto his neck. Just when he thought he could take it no longer, Margle emerged from the silvery liquid, gasping and sputtering, and immediately smashed his wooden gavel on the podium.

"Custody of Young Scorpius Malfoy to Mr. Draco Malfoy!" he bellowed, his eyes accusingly fixed on Pansy and her lover/lawyer. "Without joint custody from the mother, and without repeal until said child comes of age. Court dismissed, Mr. Malfoy you may have your Pensieve back."

With that, he stood and took a long sip from his glass of water, and stalked out of the room.

Draco sat, paralyzed, trying to breathe again.

It had worked! He had his son.

_Without joint custody… without repeal. _

He smiled slowly and stood to leave, tucking his Pensieve under his arm.

Hours later, Draco sat in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, quill in hand, and began to scratch out the letters on the parchment.

_Scorpius,_

_The hearing was today. The court ruled in our favor, and they've given me full custody of you. _

_We will have to buy a flat some time soon, I suppose. _

_Hope you're doing well at school and in all of your classes._

_Luck is on our side,_

_Your Father_

He didn't know exactly what he should write, but he figured he would put it simply and not lead Scorpius to ask a lot of questions. The whole business was a tricky matter, he knew, and he didn't want anyone getting into trouble.

His thoughts switched to Hermione as he worried, not for the first time that day, about all of the danger he was putting her in, with her career and her family, and wondered if they weren't making a crazy mistake.

Just then, a knock came to the door and a muffled voice came through the wood.

"Draco, it's me! Open up, I'm freezing out here!"

"Well, speak of Merlin," he said as he opened the door to her. "I was just thinking about you."

She smiled brightly at him as she unwrapped her scarf and threw it on the table beside the door, which he'd just slammed shut. Her face was alive with excitement, and she seemed almost to be glowing.

"I heard!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "About the hearing, I mean. Oh, Draco, I'm so happy for you! I'm so glad the Pensieve worked, too! Margle was beside himself when I spoke with him – couldn't believe all of it about Pansy. But obviously he believed it well enough, right!? _Without joint custody_, oh, it's great!"

He smiled as he held her close to him, loving every minute of her ecstatic embrace. He knew then that it wasn't a crazy mistake.

She slowly eased away from him and stood looking into his eyes, her own eyes full of light.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth, pulling her back into him.

"Thanks for being here for me," he said after they parted.

She smiled modestly and chuckled a little before saying, "So, what do you say to a home-cooked meal? I was thinking of carrots all day – I really want carrots. Maybe steamed, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

He nodded. "Carrots sound great. Is that our main course?"

Her eye brows furrowed for a moment before she said, "Well, I've also been wanting pickles… and pineapple," she said thoughtfully. "What?"

He was looking at her as if she was crazy, but frankly, he thought she might be.

"Hermione, carrots, pickles, and pineapple?" he asked. "Are you feeling alright?"

She nodded slowly. "I… I think so… well, I have been feeling sort of sick sometimes, but not badly. I think it was just stress, though, because of the hearing."

He nodded. Maybe it was just leftover insanity because of stress. Sure. "Okay, well, I'll go for the carrots, but I've got to pass on the others. Maybe I'll make myself a filet of fish to go along with the carrots while you have your… other choices."

She chuckled. "Okay," she agreed. "But no fish for me. I'm not having a fish day."

The two of them set to work, conjuring and transfiguring and so forth, meanwhile in jovial conversation.


	12. Chapter 12

Discovery

**Discovery**

Hermione wrapped her scarf around her neck as she kissed Draco on the cheek, preparing for the journey home. She Apparated out of his room, preferring not to face the cold corridor just outside the cozy walls. With a whoosh and a pop, she entered into the black abyss and felt her stomach whirl around as she materialized in her living room.

A sudden wave of dizziness and nausea crept over her, and she was forced to lie down to keep from toppling over. She was confused as to why she would get sick over Apparating, but then, an even more confusing sensation awoke.

She suddenly had a very strong urge to find and devour as much asparagus as possible.

She sat up with a shock, ignoring the loss of blood flow to her head momentarily as she had discovered something more astonishing.

You see, Hermione hated asparagus more than anything in the world. And the only time she'd ever been welcoming to the thought of them was during both of her previous pregnancies.

She felt even more sick thinking about it, and decided overwhelmingly that she needed to put it aside for the moment and focus on her current task. Which, as of three minutes ago, should have been picking up Hugo from the nanny.

"Damn!" she swore as she turned on her heel and Apparated once again.

Once she was back home, she tucked Hugo in and isolated herself in her bedroom for long hours of thinking.

Draco was tired that night. It had been a long day, a successful one, but long nonetheless. By eight o'clock, he was ready to settle down with a book, and by nine he was fast asleep with his nose pressed against the pages.

So, naturally, he was quite startled when he heard a knock at the door around 10 pm.

Upon opening the door, he saw a very disheveled and distressed Hermione, tears streaking her face, looking quite the opposite of what she'd been hours ago.

He stepped back, confused and worried, and made room for her to come in.

She didn't touch him. Actually, she hardly looked at him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she made no sounds. When Draco was sure she wasn't going to say anything, he spoke up.

"What's the problem?" he asked, trying to sound soft and caring, as he definitely didn't want to upset her further. He chided himself for it, but something deep inside of him hoped that she'd had an argument with Ron. A bad argument, and maybe even one that had resulted in their split.

He wondered if he'd found out about them, and wondered what he would do if it did, but his thoughts were interrupted.

"I don't think we should see each other any longer," Hermione said coldly, blankly. She was looking into his eyes, but seemed more to be looking right through them.

"I – What – Hermione? What do you mean by all of this?" Draco stammered, completely caught off-guard while he'd been hoping about their future together.

"Draco, I've made a mistake. I can't see you any more," she said. But he heard no determination in her voice. There was a complete lack of substance to what she was saying.

"Hermione, no," he resisted. "Why are you saying this? What happened?"

Had someone put her under the Imperius curse? Was she acting upon someone else's wishes? But who, then? Because who else knew?

Had Ron found out and Imperiused her?

But no, Draco shook the thought from his head. One of the two top Aurors in the Ministry – never. Not since the days of You-Know-Who.

He looked at her, questioning her with his eyes. She was silent.

"Hermione? Please tell me what's going on," he pleaded. He was beginning to think she meant it.

And now she was crying harder, noisily, hiccoughing and sobbing. He was completely unsure of what to do, but he decided to do what he'd done the last time.

He moved to where she was standing, about five feet away from him, and wrapped his arms around her middle. With one hand on her back and one on her stomach, he tried to support her, but it was too late by then. She was falling, collapsing, onto her knees.

He held her there, on the floor, and rocked gently back and forth. Slowly she calmed, and after twenty minutes or so she was able to sit up fully.

Her face was red and puffy, and the redness made the bits of green in her eyes stand out. Her lips were swollen, and her hair seemed bigger than it usually was. But somehow, he wasn't repulsed. Somehow, he still thought she was graceful, beautiful even.

He didn't say anything. He didn't want to make her cry again, so he said nothing.

In the last few days they'd become more comfortable with each other, less awkward and foreign. But now, Draco felt like they barely knew each other. Like they were complete strangers.

And he realized with a sort of pain in his gut that they really didn't know each other.

He wondered if that was her realization, as well.

"I've discovered something, Draco, and I think you should know," Hermione spoke after long minutes or hours of waiting. He nodded, and she continued.

"I wasn't feeling sick because I was under too much stress, Draco. I was feeling sick, and I was having strange cravings, because I'm pregnant."

"No!" he started to protest, but she cut him off.

"I know this, Draco. I know for sure. I've done it twice already, I know."

"But we used – "

"Contraceptive spells, I know. That's why I know that we can't be together."

An awakening dawned on him, and he couldn't do or say anything. All of his energy was spent processing this new and terrible information.

Hermione was pregnant. And it wasn't his.

"I – I think it happened about three weeks ago. Ron had just come home from a weekend long trip and we – well he – "

Draco nodded again. A slow creeping feeling made its way into his chest, something like tightness and pain and sickness all in one. It swelled up through his chest and into his throat, until it filled his brain. His fists were clenched white, and he wanted to scream or yell or both.

He swallowed, as much as he could with the dryness in his mouth, and stared at her.

She shrugged.

"I don't know what to do, Draco. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe we've both known it was wrong from the beginning."

She was standing again, and more composed but not as cold. She seemed so sad, yet so determined to save face.

"I'll leave…" she said, feeling the awkwardness that had leaked into the room once again, with renewed force.

"No, Hermione!" he pled without thinking.

She shook her head.

"Draco, I have to. I have a husband, I have kids. I'll have another one soon, and I have to do the right thing."

She was gone before he could make her stay.

_After sitting in her bedroom for two and a half hours, she decided to make the only move she could. She would go to the St. Mungo's and be tested. _

_She put on a face, playing the position of happy-mother-to-be, and entered the reception area. The grumpy old Witch seated behind the desk, with a sign reading "Pleased to help", reading a magazine that Hermione was unfamiliar with. _

_She cleared her throat, hoping to make the woman look up and notice her, but it was ineffective. After a minute or so, she politely said, "Excuse me?"_

_The woman looked up, scowled discreetly, and grunted, "What do you need?"_

"_I was wondering if I might meet with a healer? I'm not injured but I require – "_

"_That won't be possible," the Witch stated bluntly._

"_But please I need to be tested for – "_

"_This is St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical __**Maladies and Injuries**__," she said grumpily, pointing to the sign. "If you're not injured, we cannot help you."_

_Hermione frowned._

"_I don't understand why I can't at least speak with a healer – "_

"_What do you need, miss?" came a voice from behind her. _

_She turned around to see a young-looking woman, dressed in a green hospital uniform and smiling. _

_Hermione smiled back, glad for someone who had the ability to smile at all, and answered, "I just needed to speak with a healer privately. Regarding my physical state." For some reason, it felt odd to ask for a pregnancy test. But when she and the young healer were walking down the hall, she explained her situation._

"_See, I've been feeling quite odd for a few days now, and I think I might be pregnant," she said, trying to sound excited. "I mean, this is what it felt like the first two times so…"_

_The healer nodded with real excitement, and told her that it was a quick and easy test. "But you know that already, right?" she said._

_Soon they were in an office, with a desk and a chair on one side and a sofa on the other. The sofa sat high so that the person could see over, and looked rather inviting._

_The healer led her to a cabinet and pulled out a small vial, reading the tiny label carefully before saying, "Yep, here's the one! Just drink it and you should know within a few minutes. You can take it at home, if you like, or take it here. I can stay with you to find out, if you prefer company."_

_She seemed to be enjoying herself, and Hermione decided to indulge her. Besides, what was at home?_

_She drank the white liquid, which was very sweet, and sat in the sofa at the woman's bidding._

"_So…" the healer said after Hermione put down the empty vial. "Does the daddy know yet? That you think you might be…?"_

"_No," Hermione said. She thought of Ron with a pain, wondering how and what to tell him. "I've kept it to myself so far."_

_The healer nodded, seemingly uncomfortable at Hermione's tone, which had become not so friendly. _

_A couple of minutes passed as such, the healer asking polite questions and Hermione answering them, each one making her think about terrible things._

_Hermione knew, after thinking about it for a few seconds, that the baby was Ron's. There was no way it could be Draco's – just no way. It hadn't been long enough, for one. And with the contraceptive spells they used, doubtlessly not Draco's. _

_She knew then what she had to do._

_Then, suddenly, a white glow shone through Hermione's blouse. She lifted it, revealing her shining abdomen, in which shone a bright silvery sphere. _

_Hermione'd seen it before. In the glowing object was a very small, so small you could hardly see it, round object. It was her child, Ron's child, growing inside of her._

_She left the hospital shortly, just after the glowing ceased, retaining her tears until then, and finally Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. She cried as she walked through the hall way in the bitter cold, and eventually came to Draco's door. _

When Hermione left Draco's room, she was no longer crying. She'd done what she should have, she knew that. The emptiness inside of her ached, but the knowledge that she was in fact not empty at all kept her steady.

She arrived back home and drifted into her bedroom, where she undressed and laid down. She didn't sleep, she couldn't sleep, but she stayed there anyways.

Even though she didn't want to.

Even though she could hardly breath.

Even though she was dreading Ron coming home with every second, and dreading telling him the news even more.

Even though all she really wanted was to go back to Draco, tell him that she was wrong, tell him that they could still be together, and for once in her life, do something for her own happiness and not because it was the right thing to do.


	13. Chapter 13

"Ron

**Visit**

"Ron?" she whispered into the dark room. She'd heard a door creak, which usually signaled him coming home.

"Hermione? You still awake?" he asked quietly. He sounded tired.

"Yeah…" she said, not trying to sound any happier than she felt. "Listen Ron, I need to tell you something."

She heard him sit down on the bed, and felt the movement of the mattress under her. "Really?" he asked. "What is it?"

"I'm going to have another baby," she said bluntly, not attempting to cushion the news at all.

She almost heard his excitement. He was silent for a moment, probably thinking about how to respond, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

He kissed her on the cheek.

"Hermione, that's brilliant!" he said finally. "A baby… wow…"

It wasn't as if it'd never happened before, so she really couldn't see why he was so excited about it. Not like it would change anything in his life, anyway.

"Yeah…" she echoed emptily.

She felt him shift into her and wrap his arms around her.

"Thanks for waiting up for me," he said. "I love you."

The tone in his voice was different somehow, and Hermione actually felt like he meant it that time. It left her speechless, really, the knowledge that he could be sincere if he wanted to.

"Let's get some sleep, eh?" he said, snuggling into her. "I'm beat."

The next morning was not like one Hermione had ever had. Not since the first year of their marriage, for sure.

She woke up slowly with the knowledge that there was something warm in the bed with her. As her consciousness increased, it dawned on her that it was moving, in a sort of ebb and flow. Almost like breathing.

At first, the thought it might be Hugo, come to sleep with her because of a bad dream. But then she noticed that it was bigger, and hairier.

Her eyes forced themselves open and she saw Ron there in bed with her still. He was all curled up, his face like a peaceful child's, with one hand extended. As Hermione followed his arm down to his hand she saw that he was holding onto the fabric of her nightgown, his hand all balled up in a fist.

She couldn't help but smile. It was this kind of childishness that she loved and hated about him, but at the moment she couldn't find it more endearing.

She shut her eyes again, letting herself drift back out of consciousness.

A few minutes later, Ron woke slowly and looked over at the grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the room. Just as it struck 8 o'clock, he rose and stretched his arms up lazily.

If Hermione had woken just then, she would have thought that he was getting up to leave for work, and not to drop Hugo off at the nanny and fix her some lovely breakfast.

She did, however, wake when she smelled the sausages cooking. Frowning and looking over at the same clock, she saw that it was just about half past nine.

As she peeled back the covers and stepped out of bed, she wondered what on earth Ron could be doing at home still.

She opened the door slowly and started to walk into the living room, but she heard a shout from the kitchen.

"No! Not yet, go, go back to bed!"

It was Ron, and he was standing barefoot in the kitchen with an apron tied around his waist.

"Wh – Why?" she asked in a bewildered tone.

"Just go back in, I'll be there in a second." It was a command, but the way he said it made it sound like a request. There was a sweetness in his voice that she hadn't heard in a very long time.

She went back in and sat at the edge of the bed, wondering what could possibly be going on. For one, Ron was cooking. That was enough to turn the world inside out, since Ron never cooked, not ever, and was far more experienced in consuming the food rather than providing it.

She smiled to herself. This was a strange day, and a strange feeling to go along with it.

A few minutes later, Ron came into the room holding a tray of all sorts of breakfast items.

"I didn't know what you'd want," he said sheepishly. "So I just made a bit of everything."

She could see that he had, indeed, made a bit of everything. There were the sausages, on a plate with some bacon and a fried egg, yolk fully cooked like she liked it. There was a bowl of fruits, everything from apple slices to kiwis. There was a plate with a stack of pancakes and two halves of toast with jam, and a cup of orange juice next to a mug of steaming hot tea.

She smiled at him, still a bit confused but happy nonetheless. She said thank you, and then he sat down next to her and held the tray while she took a piece of toast and started eating.

"So I decided to take the day off," he said. Hermione almost choked on her toast. "Ha, don't act like it never happens," he said, noticing her reaction.

She swallowed, then said, "Sorry, Ron, but it doesn't really happen all that much."

He shrugged. "So maybe not. But you know how important my job is, and how much I enjoy it," he said, a little more seriously.

"Oh, yes, I know how much you enjoy it alright. Why else would you spend so much time working?" Hermione said dryly. She was feeling very touchy all of the sudden.

"What's that supposed to mean, Hermione?" he asked, sounding offended.

"Just exactly what it sounds like, Ron," she snapped. "Don't pretend you don't know how much you're gone, or how much time your family spends without you."

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, as if he was genuinely surprised to hear this.

She shrugged. "It's true, Ron," she said softly. She didn't much feel like arguing, but she did want to have the last word either way.

"Well, I'm here now," replied Ron. He seemed to be a mix of angry and sorry, and Hermione decided not to say anything else about it.

She ate in silence, not looking away from the food much unless it was to look at her shoe. After a while, Ron spoke again.

"You know, I was thinking maybe we could visit your mother today," he said.

Hermione gulped and stared at him, her eyes wide.

Ron never suggested things like that. In fact, in the last ten years, Ron had only come with her to visit her mother twice.

"Really?" she asked, completely amazed.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I think it'd be nice to tell her about the baby in person."

That was when Hermione remembered, for the first time that day, that she was pregnant. It felt like she'd just been hit by a cinder block on the head. She wanted to moan, or cry, or scream. Somehow she'd convinced herself subconsciously that it was all a dream. Now she realized that it was true.

She tried to swallow the sudden sickness that swept over her, and managed to croak out, "What a nice idea," before looking away from the food and not looking back again.

Hours later, they were getting into the Muggle car once again. Hermione tried to feel comfortable in the seat as Ron backed out of the parking space and steered them over to the public street.

They were going to visit Hermione's mother, which, sad as it seemed, was a very rare occurrence.

Hermione didn't know if it was because of a lack of time, or because she kept running into distractions, or (she hated to admit that it was an option) because she felt terrible whenever she saw what her mother had become.

Once a strong, beautiful woman, she had deteriorated into hardly more than a walking zombie. Hermione knew it had begun with the death of her father, and that it was simply too much sadness for her to handle, but still it hurt to see her lost for all she once was.

She'd fallen in the months after Hermione's father passed away, with a kind of illness that no one could exactly diagnose. The only thing people could say was that she was depressed, but it was more than that.

She was disintegrating, withering away. She didn't eat any longer, and she quit her job. Soon, she started to lose hold on reality, and would either talk to herself or not speak at all for weeks at a time.

She lived with Hermione and Ron for about a year, but after she started getting really ill they had her seek medical attention. It was after that when she was permanently placed in a retirement home on the Muggle hospital premises so she could be monitored.

It was, Hermione hated to admit even to herself, a terrible experience going to visit her mother. She remembered just how terrible it was as she entered through the large glass doors into the facility.

A stale smell invaded her senses, mixed with a scent of cleaning solutions and a hint of human piss. Hermione crumpled her nose and tried not to cough as it stung in her sinuses.

Walking through the white halls with white tiles and white walls, they would occasionally pass by an abandoned elderly person, sitting alone in their wheelchair, just waiting for someone to come and give them a direction.

Hermione's thoughts shifted over to Dumbledore, and how, even in his old age, he'd never lost that vitality, that twinkle in his eye. She wondered if it was a magical trait – staying youthful even at the end – and hoped for her mother's sake that it was not. But as she rounded the corner and stepped through the threshold leading to her mother's room, she knew it was already too late.

It had only been two months since Hermione had been to visit her mum, but she'd aged significantly even in that short amount of time.

Ron gulped awkwardly and looked at Hermione, not knowing what to say or do.

Hermione was staring at her mother, who was staring right back at her. Only, there was no look or recognition on her mother's face, only a blank stare as if Hermione was wearing an invisibility cloak.

A shooting pain went through her heart, and Hermione hoped her children would never see her look at them that way. It wasn't natural for a mother not to recognize her daughter. She hoped that even the child within her would never see her as an empty shell of a human.

She stomach sank again with the realization of her pregnancy. She brought her hand to her stomach unconsciously, then cleared her throat.

"Hello," she said softly to her mother. The sound of her voice seemed to awaken something, and she looked at Hermione now as if she was there. Then slowly her gaze shifted to Ron.

"It's been a long time," she said, addressing Hermione's normally absent husband. "I was wondering if you'd found someone else," she added, turning to Hermione.

Hermione felt a slow blush creep into her face, knowing that her mother was right but not wanting to think about Draco just then. Not wanting to think about him at all, for that matter, because it just made her decision that much more difficult to hold to.

"Hi mum," Hermione said, stepping closer and kneeling near her chair. She stuck a hand out and rubbed the side of her cheek tenderly as she tried to find some depth in her eyes. She could see, deep in there somewhere, there was the mother she'd once known. Seeing that made a rush of affection flood Hermione's heart, and tears well up in her eyes.

"Mum, I'm pregnant," she said after her throat had stopped burning with unshed tears. For a reason that only Hermione knew, the confession made the tears come forth again, this time spilling over just slightly.

Her mother looked at her intently for a moment, then something behind her eyes seemed to lose focus.

"Oh, Hermione, I've always wanted grandchildren," she said tearfully.

She heard Ron start to say something, but looked at him warningly before he could continue. She didn't feel like correcting her mother just then.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione's mum spoke again.

"Have you gotten an ultrasound? Don't you know when the baby will come yet? They have all of these sorts of devices now that they didn't have when I was pregnant with you, all of these monitors and such… Won't you go see a doctor?"

Hermione frowned now, wondering if she should remind her mother – but Ron did it for her, instead.

"Mrs. Granger – don't you remember?" he said in a gentle but incredulous tone. "We're not Muggles, we don't see 'doctors'."

Her mother stared at him for a moment before looking back at Hermione. She carried on as if she hadn't heard him.

"You will, won't you? I now a great physician – a good friend of mine from graduate school – he can even tell you the exact day that that baby was conceived…"

The last words made Hermione's eyes jolt up and look her mother in the face. Was it true? Of course, she should have known that Muggles had developed sciences that advanced. Even when she was pregnant previously, they'd been able to tell the sex of the baby after a few months of pregnancy. But a way to find out the exact day….

All sorts of images filled her mind. She imagined herself going to see the doctor and him telling her that it had only been one week. She imagined going to Draco and wrapping her arms around him, announcing that the baby was his and that they could be together after all, living the rest of their lives together happily with their children and with their new baby they would have together.

Then Ron spoke.

"Why would that be important?" he had mumbled under his breath.

And Hermione's world came crashing down once again.


	14. Chapter 14

A Holiday Gone Bad… Or Good

**A Holiday Gone Bad…**

The day was December 10th, and it marked the beginning of Rose's Christmas holiday. As a family, Ron, Hermione, and Hugo drove in the Muggle auto to King's Cross Station.

As usual, the place was bustling with travelers, both long-term ones with huge suitcases and overnighters with little handbags. Most people were walking briskly toward whichever platform they were required, and Hermione and her family were included in this group. Just as they approached the brick arch between platforms nine and ten, all three of them sped up in order to pass through inconspicuously.

When the barrier was behind them, they stood on a full platform, bursting with other magical families there to pick their children up. Hermione spotted one pair of anxious parents and knew immediately that they were Muggles, not only because of their own dress, but also because of the way they were observing the dress of others.

She smiled fondly, thinking of her own dear parents, before her attention was brought to the large train pulling in to the station, whistling to announce its arrival.

Hugo started jumping up and down, yelling, "Rose! Mummy, I see her! Do you see her?" and grabbing onto Ron's cloak.

"Yes, I see her," Hermione said excitedly, looking at the small face of her daughter, beaming out the window at them.

It was a few minutes later when she emerged from the train, dragging her large trunk behind her, holding James' hand. When she finally pulled her trunk onto the platform, she turned around and hugged him fiercely, then turned to do the same to Albus.

Hermione heard James saying, "There's no reason to be upset, Rose, we _are_ cousins. You know we'll all see each other for Christmas at the Burrow!"

She nodded, and then turned to face her parents. Smiling brightly at Hermione, she hugged her around the middle and said a greeting before doing the same to her father and brother.

Soon, they were off and driving back home, Rose chatting away happily about all of the things she'd learned and all of the spells she could do.

Hugo, of course, folded him arms and pouted his lips the whole time, very displeased that his sister could do magic when he couldn't.

"Don't worry Hugo," Hermione called from the front seat. "She can't use magic away from school anyway."

Rose looked at her in disbelief, and Hermione said simply, "Have you forgotten that I went to Hogwarts also?"

Then she introduced the "what do you want for Christmas" question, and there was no more talk of who could do magic and who couldn't.

Draco was reorganizing his small apartment that morning. He'd found it after many days of searching, and bought it immediately. It was exactly the thing he wanted, exactly the thing that he and Scorpius needed. So, with the approaching arrival of his son, he wanted the area to look as magnificent as possible.

He was levitating the sofa to the other side of the room when he glanced at the clock and realized that he should have gone to pick up the boy almost a half hour ago. Without hesitating, he Apparated to a deserted alleyway behind King's Cross Station, letting the sofa fall to the ground with a resounding crash.

Scorpius, of course, had a lot to say about Hogwarts. Most of it was good, although he was outwardly disappointed with the Potions teacher.

"Too bad you never had Snape," Draco told him. "He was a genius at Potions."

"Do you mean _Severus_ Snape?" Scorpius asked him.

Draco looked at him in surprise and said, "Yes, that's exactly who. Why? Did you hear something about him?"

"Oh, lots!" the boy exclaimed with astonishing enthusiasm. "This boy, a sort of prat really, is named after that man Severus. He's got loads to say about how _great_ Snape was, and how _brave_," Scorpius rolled his eyes mockingly. "I'll bet he wasn't all that great."

Draco had lost his train of thought when his son mentioned Harry's child – because he knew, of course, that Harry James Potter had named his second son after Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. He knew this, not only because the Ministry's magazines and newspapers loved to update the world on the Boy(or Man, now)–Who–Lived's every action, but also because Hermione had mentioned it to him in passing.

The fact that his son was already finding things he disliked about the Potter boy did not surprise him – Potters and Malfoys did not mix well.

But then something occurred to him.

"What about the Weasley girl?" he asked Scorpius. "Is she a nuisance as well?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "_Which _Weasley, father? They make up about half the school nowadays."

Draco laughed. "She'll be the smart one, with bushy hair and big teeth like her mother had."

Scorpius eyed Draco skeptically, and Draco could see the confusion and questions in his eyes.

"Yeah, I know of her," he said after a couple seconds. "She's always hanging about with James and Albus Potter – the three of them are like – "

"The Golden Trio?" Draco finished for him, remembering the days at Hogwarts when Weasley, Potter, and Hermione Granger were the three students of glory.

Scorpius nodded. "Right." He agreed. "But she's not as bad as the other two, she's pretty bright really."

Draco nodded. Hearing something nice about Hermione's child made a part of him stir inside. He pushed it down.

He didn't like thinking of her in those days. It had been a few months already since he'd spoken to her, and she'd transferred his case over to a different lawyer so they wouldn't have any business relationship. He would sometimes walk down the hallway where her office was, hoping to see her by coincidence, but it never happened.

The only time he'd seen her since the night she told him about her pregnancy was in Diagon Alley, but she hadn't seen him. He stood still and watched her as she walked by, seeing the way the sunlight made her glow like an angel. But he could see that she wasn't happy. She expression was forced and her jaw was set, something like the expression of a man going to meet the Dementor's Kiss. He knew she was just as unhappy as he was, and it made it even harder for him to keep himself from running after her.

But, alas, he held his ground. And now, months later, the mere thought of her pained him immeasurably.

"Father?" Draco heard Scorpius asking.

He realized that he'd been significantly sidetracked and replied, "Sorry, son, I'm a bit distracted."

Scorpius didn't reply, but simply asked him, "Are you going to conjure us a Christmas tree, or do I have to?"

Hermione handed a cup of hot cocoa to Ron and sat on the sofa next to him to drink her own. She smiled as she watched her two beautiful children decorating the three in their living room, placing candy-canes here and sparkling pixies there.

"Ron?"

Her husband looked at her, eyebrows raised, and waited for her to continue. He seemed slightly aggravated, but she ignored it.

"Do you think I should see a Muggle doctor like my mother suggested?"

He frowned. "Why?"

His one-word answers never made her very happy. She always felt like she was doing all of the communicating.

"Well, I'd just like to know the exact day to expect the baby and everything…" she lied.

The idea had plagued her since that visit months before, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't shake the hope that her baby was Draco's. She wanted so desperately to know for sure.

"Well," Ron said dryly. Hermione thought for a moment that he wouldn't continue because his pause was so long. "If you really want to, go ahead. I'll be working tomorrow, so you might bring the kids along with you. Unless Hugo's nanny wants to take them both…"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "Martha's out of town now – I think she went to Florida or somewhere. I'll bring them."

Rod didn't respond. Hermione didn't really care.

The next morning, long after Ron had gone of course, Hermione woke and began her day. The first thing, like usual, was to empty her compressed bladder – because obviously four times a night hadn't been good enough. Then she woke the children, very happy to see Rose in her bed again like before, and had them wash up and so forth.

She wasn't exactly sure how to go about the whole Muggle doctor's office ordeal. She knew that most people telephoned in before going for a visit, but she didn't have a telephone, and she was sure that a message sent with her Patronus would not be appropriate. She figured they would just have to go there and see if any doctor could see her. She also was unsure of how the process of finding out the stage of pregnancy, and she was terribly uneasy about that.

Was it going to be painful? Was it going to require some sort of surgery? Would they cut her open to look at the baby and then sew her back up again? She was almost certain they wouldn't, but the idea scared her. She was most concerned with whether her children would be alright to watch the process, because she didn't know what she would do if the two of them had to wait outside the room. The image reminded her of dogs, and she really didn't like that.

After fixing some breakfast and washing up herself, the three of them set out. Hermione figured it would do to drive the car, because she didn't know exactly where the Muggle hospital was or where to Apparate to get there.

It was more difficult than she'd thought driving a car, and suddenly she felt sorry that she'd mentally berated Ron for being such a terrible driver. At one time, a bus almost crashed into her, and it was honking its horn madly all the time. The other cars, too, honked their horns.

Hermione thought it must have been some sort of magical protection that kept the police officers away, because if one had been anywhere near her during the drive, he would have arrested her for sure. Probably for driving while intoxicated, because she was sure she was that terrible compared to everyone else.

But they made it there all right, and without even a scratch on Ron's car. She herded her children out of the car and along the sidewalk as they asked all sorts of questions, like "where are we going?" and "mummy are you sick, is that why you need a doctor?". Calming them down as best she could, the three of them entered the hospital.

Immediately, Hermione saw (and smelled) that the hospital was very much like the home that her mother lived in. It made her supremely uncomfortable, and the only thing keeping her from turning around and driving home was the picture of Draco's face in her head.

It was like someone else was orchestrating her movements now, because she seemed to know exactly what to do and who to go to. Thankfully, the help desk at this Muggle institution had a much more _helpful_ receptionist.

Hermione explained her situation to the young lady, and immediately was directed to the third level ward called "OB/GYN". Hermione was completely unsure of what these letters stood for, but she decided not to ask, thinking that it would make the receptionist suspicious.

Hugo and Rose trailing right behind her, Hermione walked down the many aisles and hallways of the hospital until she found the correct place.

The whole situation was not only foreign to her, but quite bizarre either way. When they got to the point where Hermione's shirt was lifted and the doctor spread blueish-greenish goop on her stomach, both of the children giggled irrepressibly.

"Can I touch it, mummy?" Hugo asked her.

Hermione began to decline, but the doctor told him yes, of course, and put a dot of the gel on his index finger.

Then, he took a hand-held instrument of some kind and touched it to Hermione's stomach. Immediately, a noise filled the room. It was something like a wobbling piece of sheet metal, and Hermione wasn't completely sure why it was happening.

"It's the heart beat," the doctor said, as if he was reading her mind. He seemed to have said it to himself, though.

Hermione's eyes filled up with tears for no apparent reason. Just that sound, that wobbling noise, struck something inside of her. That was the sound of her baby's heart beating.

"Can you tell me how long it's been?" Hermione asked, trying not to cry. The anticipation was terrible by now, and all she wanted to do was find out the truth.

The doctor nodded his head silently as he moved his instrument around a little more. After he stopped, he reached over with one hand and turned a television screen towards Hermione.

Motioning with one hand and using the other to hold the instrument still, he said, "Do you see this here?"

She nodded.

"This is the foot," he said, pointing to a black blob near the bottom of the screen. "And this," he moved his finger up near the top, "is the head. Your baby is… approximately three and a quarter inches long. That means you're just approaching the three month mark."

Hermione smiled, looking up at the picture of her baby. It was not very clear, but she could make out the general form. What was funny to her was that the picture, like pictures in the magical world, was moving. She knew it was more like a video than a picture, but it was still enjoyable.

"The date of conception," the doctor continued, "seems to have been right near the beginning of September. I would say September seventh."

Hermione shook her head. "Not possible," she said. She'd been going over the details in her head for these past months, and she knew the exact dates of when she was with Ron and when she was with Draco. "I wasn't with my husband on that day."

She was surprised by her own boldness, and apparently, the doctor was also. He stammered for a second before asking, "You remember this for sure?"

Hermione nodded. Her heart was racing. September seventh was in between the days that she had been with Ron and Draco. That glimmer of hope rose up in her chest once again, and she watched the doctor intently as he studied the screen.

"The fetus is large for its term if anything… I might go another two days earlier. September fifth?"

Hermione sighed heavily, knowing that she should not have allowed herself to hope in the first place. She nodded, feeling her lips quivering as she did so.

"Thank you," she said, her voice cracking. A tear slipped down her cheek and she began to blush, feeling like the doctor knew exactly what she was thinking.

And he had a close idea.

"Mrs. Weasley, would you be alright with letting your children play in the waiting room for a moment? I can have one of the nurses watch them so that we can have a private conversation," the doctor said quietly, without the children hearing. They were giggling and touching the gel that the doctor had given Hugo.

Hermione nodded, and the doctor stepped out of the room for a moment, then returned. A sweet-looking woman followed behind and kneeled next to Hermione's children. The two of them looked at her immediately, and she said, "Kids, will you come with me? I thought you might like to see this new toy we got for the waiting room…"

Hugo and Rose followed her excitedly after looking at Hermione for approval, and then Hermione was left with the doctor. She felt her throat tighten again looking at him because she knew what this conversation was going to be about.

"Mrs. Weasley, is everything alright?" he began, knowing that it wasn't but making the gesture regardless. He sat in a wheeled chair and rolled toward her.

Without the thumping of her baby's heart filling the room, she thought she could feel hers more prominently. And it was beating far too fast.

She didn't answer for fear that opening her mouth would result in a wail and a torrent of tears.

"Is there an issue that you would like to discuss?" he asked, phrasing the question differently.

Hermione looked him in the eye for a moment, and knew that she had to tell him. He already knew anyway. But he spoke again before she could.

"You don't know if this baby is your husband's, do you?" he asked, and although it was a question, Hermione knew that he was sure of the answer.

"I know now," she said.

"Is that why you are upset, Mrs. Weasley? Does the date that I've just told you make you think that the child is not his?"

Hermione sighed again. "No, it makes me think it is," she said, her voice cracking again and a few tears escaping her eyes.

The doctor furrowed his brows. "You don't want the child to be your husband's?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "Very desperately not," she said. As she spoke, she could not believe herself for confiding in this person that she didn't even know.

"Mrs. Weasley," the doctor said. "I don't know what else to tell you. September seventh is still the date that I would bet on. But if that is impossible, I can only say that September fifth and sixth are also possible."

"September fifth," she echoed. "It was September fifth that I last was with my husband."

"And you were not with… ahem, anyone else on that day?"

Hermione shook her head. "No," she confirmed. "Not until September tenth."

"I am sorry Mrs. Weasley," he said. "But it looks as if your husband is the only possible father."

The words, although she had already known they were true, brought on a new wave of depression. This time the tears fell, and despite her attempts, Hermione could not stop them. She sat silently crying until a few minutes had passed and she was able to bring herself together.

"Mrs. Weasley," the man spoke again. "There are more certain ways to tell… I mean to say, if you are not satisfied, I can run paternity tests to compare the fetus' DNA with your husband's. Then we could say for certain if he was the father or not."

Hermione shook her head again. "The dates tell me what I already knew," she said shakily.

He nodded.

A few minutes later, after he cleaned all of the gel off her stomach, she left the hospital building with her children and drove home.


	15. Chapter 15

…Or Good

…**Or Good**

"_Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_You are hereby officially divorced from Miss Pansy Parkinson in the Muggle and Magical communities of England._

_Best Wishes, _

_Ministry Official Sandra Wilkens"_

Draco read the letter as soon as the black and white splotched owl dropped it on the table beside his breakfast, and he promptly forgot about the steaming hot porridge before him. He looked across the table to his son, who was staring at him curiously.

"Good news, Father?" he asked. He was still quite sleepy, but nevertheless could tell that something exciting had happened.

Draco nodded. "Very good indeed," he agreed. "We are two, officially now."

Scorpius brightened up. "The divorce is finished?"

Draco nodded again. "Right you are!" he said excitedly. This was going to be a better day than he'd imagined.

He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, decidedly ignoring that the hairless flesh continued further up his head than he would have liked.

"Scorpius, today is an important day," he said after a moment's pause.

Scorpius looked with his eyebrows raised at Draco for a moment, then asked, "And why is that, Father?"

Draco smiled. "I was hoping you would ask! Today is December 22nd, which means that it is annual Malfoy-Shopping-for-Christmas-Gifts Day."

Scorpius frowned. "What are you talking about? There's never been a – "

"That's only what you think!" Draco interrupted. "It used to be a real holiday when I was younger. It's one of my fonder childhood memories. Your Grandmother and I used to shop the whole day – in Diagon Alley, in France, in Italy. We did it every year," he paused.  
Until.. well, until after my fourth year… then things got a little more… complicated…" He brightened up again, wishing not to explain the details of that unpleasant time. "I am officially rededicating this day as a global Malfoy shopping day."

Scorpius looked a bit scared. Draco knew, of course, that his son had never seen him act this crazy before.

When there was no reply, Draco calmed down and said, "Okay, okay, I know I sound like I belong in the nut house. But believe me, we'll have fun."

Scorpius' mouth spread into a smile. "Are you letting me use your money?"

Draco grinned at his son's conniving nature. "Of course."

"For all of my friends' gifts? No matter how expensive?"

"Definitely," Draco nodded resolutely. He was glad, at least, that his son wanted to buy is friends Christmas gifts. He had never been that thoughtful as a boy.

"Mummy," Hugo whined, "why do we have to come with you?"

"Yeah," Rose agreed, "Your shopping days are always boring."

Hermione frowned. "Oh, hush you two. You can't stay at home by yourselves, can you?"

There was a collective "no" from her children, albeit lacking enthusiasm, and Hermione smiled smugly.

"That's what I thought. So no complaining. We'll only be a few hours."

"_A few hours_?" the two children exclaimed in unison.

She didn't respond. She wasn't completely in the mood for this kind of attitude this morning, especially after her argument with Ron the night before.

Hermione'd woken around 2 a.m. to use the toilet, and Ron happened to come home as she was settling back into bed. She made some sort of comment, and he snapped… It ended pretty badly. Hermione just hoped that the kids hadn't heard them yelling at each other.

Thinking of the incident, Hermione rubbed her swollen belly, which was presently was expanding into her bladder's comfort zone. It was protruding more now, and she was sure that people could see that she was pregnant (although, a few days before, to Hermione's dismay, a man had approached her at work and asked if she would like to try out his weight-loss charm).

The three of them Apparated to Diagon Alley and entered Flourish and Blotts.

Hermione was looking for a book that Ginny would like for Christmas when she glanced up at the sound of the door swinging open. The sight and sounds made her stomach lurch and spin like a Muggle washing machine.

Draco and Scorpius had just entered the shop and were chatting away as they walked down the nearest aisle, not even looking at the books on the shelves. Hermione tried to sink into the wall as they came closer to her with each step, walking down the exact aisle she was rooted in.

"- some kind of book about animal transfiguration, maybe," Scorpius was saying.

"I don't know, son, transfiguring people into animals is not all that pleasant," Draco said, and Hermione laughed inwardly at the time Mad-Eye Moody had transfigured him into a ferret.

"Maybe one on Quidditch, then?"

"I think that would be – " Draco started, but cut off as soon as his eyes fell on her. Her stomach flipped again, and she was sure she would faint. Their eyes locked, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not divert hers.

He'd stopped walking forward and was gaping openly at her, and Hermione swore she could feel his heart racing (or maybe that was her own). Her mouth was dry and she couldn't blink - it was like being under the Petrificus Totalus spell.

Finally, Draco seemed to have found his brain. "Fantastic," he said, apparently finishing his sentence. He stepped closer to Hermione, and even though she could see the intensity in his eyes, the rest of him had become cool and collected once again. "Hermione Weasley," he said formally. "Meet my son, Scorpius."

Hermione shook hands with the boy in a daze, not shifting her eyes from Draco's for a second. "Nice to meet you," she said.

"It's good to see you, Hermione," Draco said, licking his lips. His voice was so cool, but she could hear a slight shake in it if she listened hard. "You're looking well."

She nodded. She couldn't really do much more. Forcing herself, she managed to say, "Thank you, you look well also."

"Thank you," he said also. Then he stood frozen once again, not blinking or moving his eyes from hers.

In that moment, Hermione felt like her eyes were welded to his. Her heart was beating so fast it was unbelievable. Her hands, which were holding a thick book called, "_Healing in the 21__st__ Century_", shook so much that they threatened to release their hold.

Then, suddenly, the world that had been created in the space between Hermione and Draco collapsed as she felt a tug on her cloak.

"Mummy," Rose said. "don't you think James would love this book about – " she stopped as she saw Scorpius, and her voice lowered significantly as she said, "Malfoy, what are _you_ doing here? I didn't know _you_ liked books." The tone in her voice was sharp, but not exactly unkind. Hermione assumed that Scorpius and Rose had a relationship similar to the one that she'd had with Draco.

"Well, you're not the only one who uses the library at Hogwarts, are you?" Scorpius said, frowning. "For your information, I like reading very much. Especially about hexes to turn hair purple – "

"Scorpius!" Draco scolded. "Don't threaten – "

"I could turn your hair into fire if I wanted to!" Rose screeched, and in a millisecond's time she was lunging for the boy, who was looking less confident suddenly. Hermione caught her daughter under the arms and held her firmly, scolding her all the while.

"Rose Weasley, who taught you to bully people with magic? That is absolutely unacceptable!"

She heard Rose mumble something about her cousin. Hermione looked up apologetically into Draco's face, and was surprised to see that he was smiling. She saw that Scorpius was hiding behind him from the kicking feet of her daughter.

Slowly, a smile spread on her own face and she began to laugh. Draco laughed too, and soon the two of them were gasping between fits of laughter as their children were staring at them in astonishment. It continued, tears leaking down their faces.

Hermione, finally pulling herself back into sanity, looked at her children and said, "Come on kids, we need to pick out gifts for your cousins. What about Quality Quidditch Supplies?"

She got out of that store as fast as her legs would carry her, not looking back at Draco for fear that she might become paralyzed again. She only hoped that her children didn't suspect anything – she suddenly felt like the truth about her and Draco's relationship was written on her forehead.

Rose, frowning in confusion still, grabbed Hugo's arm and led him out of the store, following Hermione to the Quidditch store. As soon as they were out of Flourish and Blotts, Rose tugged on Hermione's arm.

"Mum, why were you and Scorpius' father laughing with each other? I thought you all hated him," she said in a sweet tone, knowing that she could get answers more easily that way.

"Oh, nothing dear. We were just laughing because you two remind us of each other when we were kids," Hermione said in a dreamy voice. The encounter had left her somewhat dazed. "And no, we don't hate the Malfoys," she added.

Rose still frowned in confusion, but soon they entered the shop and she forgot about her worries. As Hugo and Rose rushed off to examine the new types of brooms and robes, Hermione walked around the perimeter of the room. Near the back, she found a big bin with assorted old broomsticks. She held up an old Firebolt model. It was one that looked a lot like Harry's old one, and she got lost remembering all of the times she'd worried her brain out while he risked his life on the thing.

She had just replaced the broom in the bin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she knew who it was. She took a deep breath before turning her head to see the hand. As she'd thought, it was a pale, bony one with long fingers and perfectly groomed nails. She shut her eyes, the sight of his hand alone being overwhelming for her.

"Hermione," he breathed, and she felt his breath on her neck. He stepped closer, and she could feel him inches away from her. Her eyes were still closed, and at that moment she would not have opened them for the world. Opening her eyes meant admitting that she wanted to see him. Opening her eyes meant letting him see her as well.

A tingle shot through her when she felt the weight of his hand leave her shoulder and move to her arm. He brought his other hand up to the same place, and was holding her with one hand on either side. Slowly, his hands moved down her arms, sliding unevenly across the velvety fabric of her winter robes.

She inhaled sharply and smelled his rich scent in the air, then held her breath as if trying to keep the scent from escaping her presence.

When his hands reached hers, the pale fingers slid from velvet to skin and made contact with her bare flesh for the first time, sending shockwaves through her whole body.

Her eyes snapped open and she spun around to face him. Before she even had time to think, his lips were crashing down on hers and she was responding with intense enthusiasm.

Soft, wet, warm, his lips were everything she remembered them to be and more. She moved her own on his and delighted in the friction that it caused. Tingling and shaking, her lips parted and their tongues met. Mingling flavors were electric as the two of them stood as if frozen in time. Their bodies were pressed close and their hands were groping each others backs and heads for something to hold on to and never let go.

In that moment, Hermione felt the child inside of her kick, as if it was responding to the electricity passing through her body.

She broke away from Draco suddenly and grabbed his hand, pressing it on the spot where the kick had come from.

"It kicked! Draco, did you feel?" she said excitedly. She looked at him and saw the swollen, darkened lips of their encounter break into a smile as the movement repeated itself.

"Yes, I feel it," he said, smiling. "It's incredible."


	16. Chapter 16

The hand that was on her swollen stomach pulsed almost painfully, and he had to withhold himself from taking the other hand an

**Pansy's News**

The hand that was on her swollen stomach pulsed almost painfully, and he had to withhold himself from taking the other hand and bringing it to his mouth, where tingling lips were still wet from her kiss.

Then he realized: this movement occurring under her skin, deep within her body, was the reason that they couldn't be together.

Suddenly all of the ecstasy pumping through his brain ceased, and he felt like breaking down in tears from the pain of losing her again.

Draco shut his blinds to keep out the fresh morning light. He was not ready to wake up yet.

Now that Scorpius was back at school, he had nothing to look forward to each day. All he ever did was go walk around Diagon Alley and consort with random passersby.

He'd tried visiting his mother once, and he wouldn't have exactly called it a failure. But as soon as his father had come home and seen him in the drawing room, he'd almost shot a killing curse at him. Draco had Apparated away before he could ask questions, but he figured his father was still angry over his decision to leave Pansy.

So, although it was a reasonable hour and a remarkably beautiful day, Draco shut his blinds and screwed up his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Because in sleep, he was happy. In sleep, there were dreams, and in dreams, there was always Hermione.

He had seen her once since the Annual-Malfoy-Christmas-Shopping Day, and it had been even more painful than he'd imagined. She actually smiled at him.

Draco knew how intelligent Hermione was, so it confused the daylights out of him trying to figure out why she would be so stupid to smile at him. Didn't she know that it hurt him even more, looking at her beautiful face and not being able to kiss it?

In spite of the fact that he was attempting to sleep, Draco groaned loudly and rolled over in a violent manner, kicking his duvet off the bed.

That moment, the door burst open.

He gasped and sat up, very alarmed, and saw the one person that he definitely did not want to see that day.

"Draco," she said languidly as she leaned her very thin body up against his bed post. "I heard the most amusing news the other day."

Draco stood and glared at her. "What news is that, Pansy? And what the bloody hell are you doing in my house?"

She disregarded the second question, seemingly thrilled that he asked the first. "I heard," she said slowly, "that a certain ex-husband of mine was seen in Quality Quidditch Supplies before the Holiday. And you wouldn't believe what my friend told me he was doing."

Draco gulped. He'd known it would happen eventually, in fact, he was surprised that it had lasted this long without leaking out to her. The Quidditch store had been awfully crowded that day, after all, and even though they were in the deepest and most remote corner, he'd have thought it strange if someone didn't see them.

It had been so long, though, almost two whole months. He had begun to think that they'd been lucky.

Pansy stared at him with wide eyes. She wanted him to be very surprised, angry even. He could see her thirst for an argument in her expression.

"What did your friend see me doing, Pansy?" he said, feigning disinterest.

"My friend," she absolutely gushed, "saw you and the Granger girl in the very back corner of the store. And she says that you were touching her stomach and beaming like you were happier than a Nargle in Mistletoe."

Draco laughed at the thought of Nargles, which, until a few years previously, no one had believed to exist. No one other than Loony Lovegood, that is, and wouldn't you know it? She was the one to find them.

He also laughed at Pansy for being so ignorant. Here she was, so sure that she had the latest gossip to rub in his face, when she only knew a small part. She only knew a very small, insignificant part.

"So maybe I was happy, Pansy. Can't I be happy for a friend who is having a baby?" he said after his chuckle.

"Oh, Draco, don't act like I'm stupid," she glared. "I know the baby is yours."

Draco shook his head. For some reason, he did something absolutely ridiculous then. "Sadly, it's not," he said.

"Ohhhh, 'sadly it's not'," she mocked. "But then you're admitting that you want it to be?"

"I do," Draco admitted. He didn't have any reason to lie to her, he figured. What was she going to do about it?

Pansy's face turned soft all of the sudden, and it took Draco by surprise.

"Do you remember when I was pregnant with Scorpius?" she asked in a dreamy tone.

Draco nodded. It was the last time he was ever even relatively happy with Pansy.

"He grew so fast," she continued. "Do you remember, Draco? He was born about two months early, but still he weighed a good ten pounds. Healers couldn't figure it out."

Draco's heart skipped a beat. He'd forgotten.

Oh, but how? How could he have overlooked that detail?

Hermione laid in bed especially long that morning. Her stomach protruded a whole foot above the rest of her body as she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. For no reason in particular, that Saturday morning was lazier than the rest.

She felt, most of the time, that every ounce of her energy was being used as fertilizer to the baby. And something wasn't right about it, either. She'd been pregnant twice before, and never had she seen herself change so fast.

With Rose, after five months she was barely even showing yet. Hugo was a little bigger by then, but it was nothing compared to this baby. It was being fed miracle-grow or something, Hermione didn't know what was going on.

She finally rolled herself out of bed and waddled out into the living room, where Hugo was running around chasing the snitch that James had given him for Christmas. He bumped into a lamp almost immediately, and Hermione was only able to lazily apply a reparation charm to the broken ceramics before plopping on the couch and zoning out.

She only managed to get up when Hugo whined that he was ready for breakfast, and her stomach had so readily agreed with him.

She stood in front of the stove, flipping bacon, as she let her thoughts wander, as they so often did, back to the Quality Quidditch Supplies store.

She didn't have the energy any longer to fool herself into believing that she didn't want to be with Draco. In fact, every day she became more and more sure that she would die of misery if she could never kiss him like that again.

Every incredible feeling rushed back to her as she stood on the cold tile and listened to the crackling of the oil. The tender touch of his lips, the intense pressure of his hands, the ridiculously fast heart beat within her own body, they served to remind her of all that was lacking in her husband.

In a thoroughly depressed state, Hermione chewed her bacon absentmindedly as she replayed the scene in her head.

A knock on the door jolted her out of her day dream, and as she struggled to rise from her seat Hugo ran and flung it open.

"Hello Hugo," she heard. "Is your mum here?"

As she moved towards the floor, she was sure she would faint if she ever got there. Surely she was still day dreaming, right?

He smiled at her when she came into sight, and she felt her heart flutter like a bird.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" she asked, hardly masking her elation but not attempting to hide her shock either.

"Can we talk?" he whispered, although Hugo was still standing right there clinging to Hermione's robes.

Hermione shook her head, despite her dreadful urge to wrap her arms around him at that second. "Not now. Meet me for lunch," she said. "Hugo was planning on having a day with his cousin Lily anyway, weren't you Hugo?"

Hugo looked at her with excitement, for he had obviously not been planning on it. Draco, however, looked slightly disappointed. Nevertheless, he agreed.

"Lunch. Diagon Alley," he said briskly. "Hermione, it's important," he added as he leaned in close. Her skin burned from being so close to him, and her mind raced with what he could possibly need to say to her.

How would she wait until lunch?


	17. Chapter 17

The Interesting Thing About Veela

**The Interesting Thing About Veela**

"Mum, I have something very important to ask you," Draco said after he emerged from the huge marble fireplace in the Malfoy mansion. His father was not in the room, thankfully, but Draco was not sure that he would have cared either way.

_His mother frowned as she stared at him with wide eyes of surprise. _

"_Draco!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing – "_

"_I've told you, mother, I need to ask you a question," Draco interrupted. "Did you carry to full term when you were pregnant with me?"_

_Narcissa frowned again, deeper this time. "Why do you want to know?" she asked very airily through thinned eyes. _

"_I just need to!" Draco shouted. He hadn't meant to shout, but he was very eager to know._

"_I – I don't remember…" his mother began, and closed her eyes tightly. _

_He waited. He knew that it had been a very long time, so she had hardly any reason to remember exactly how long he had been inside of her womb. _

_Suddenly, her eyes snapped open._

"_Draco," she started. "I don't think I carried you very long at all…"_

"_It's true, isn't it?" Draco asked suddenly. "That we are part Veela?"_

_Narcissa nodded slowly. "My grandmother…"_

"_I knew it!" he shouted again, triumphantly this time._

Hermione dropped Hugo off at Ginny's house, giving a quick explanation about having a sudden business lunch that she hadn't planned on before. Ginny received her nephew gladly, but was confused nonetheless, and Hermione could tell.

"Hermione, what is this all about?" she asked as the two children ran up the stairs.

Hermione tried to make an innocent-looking face, but she knew that Ginny could see right through her. "What do you mean?" she asked in a last attempt.

"Hermione, you know exactly what I mean," Ginny said quietly. "You never have random business meetings. What's wrong, Hermione? What are you hiding?"

Hermione frowned. "I'm not hiding anything!" she said indignantly, but was not even convincing enough to fool herself.

"Hermione, please," Ginny said with raised eyebrows. "I know there's something going on. Just tell me."

Ginny could be so convincing sometimes. Hermione took a deep breath.

So she had to tell Ginny. But how much to tell? Should he even tell her who, or just that a friend really needed to talk to her? Should she tell everything, the whole truth?

Hermione blinked once, very slowly, and when her eyes were open again, she said, "I'm going to meet Draco Malfoy."

Ginny gasped, but looked more amused than angry. "Malfoy?" she asked. "Why?"

Hermione shrugged. She decided to tell her the exact truth.

"He showed up at my house this morning unexpectedly and needed to talk to me privately," she said, not lying at all but not telling the whole entire story either.

"He just appeared on your doorstep?" Ginny inquired, looking very confused. "Why?"

Hermione sighed. So inquisitive!

"I don't know, Gin. I have to go. I'll be back after lunch, okay?" Hermione said.

Ginny frowned, but let it go. "Fine," she said testily. "See you soon."

Hermione practically flew out the door, then she Apparated to Diagon Alley. She glanced in all directions to find him, desperately hoping that her conversation with Ginny had not taken so long that he left. She was finally greeted by the sight of his blonde head towering over a crowd of people in Flourish and Blotts.

Immediately, their eyes caught each other's and they moved towards one another quickly. When they met, it was not the long-awaited reunion of lovers, but a huddled conversation.

"Hermione, I've got something to tell you," Draco whispered. "But we have to get out of here."

"Wha – why?" Hermione asked, then realized that she, also, was being too inquisitive. "Okay, let's go back to my house."

He nodded, then disappeared immediately.

Hermione stopped only to think about how strange he was acting before Apparating back home.

And he was acting strange. He looked happy, but nervous at the same time. A sort of excited neurotic. Hermione sat him down on the sofa and asked him what he needed to say.

For a moment, he paused. His eyes changed suddenly and she saw the need in them as if it was a tangible item, and she knew that the need was for her, because she felt the same need in herself when looking at him.

Her heart began to race as he opened his mouth and began talking.

"Pansy came to my flat this morning," he told her first. She opened her mouth, but he kept going without letting her speak. "She – she reminded me of something very important. She reminded me that Scorpius was born after only seven months, but was the size and weight of a child carried to full term. Do you know that I am part Veela?"

Hermione frowned from his sudden change of subject. "I heard rumors – "

"They're true," he confirmed. "And there is something very interesting about Veela, Hermione. I think this might change things."

He clasped her hands tightly as he spoke. His enthusiasm was making her even more intrigued, and despite her efforts to not let her hopes rise again, she couldn't help but feel like this news would save her.

"Veela have gestation periods of only five months," Draco said, smiling. He paused. "Do you understand?"

Hermione thought she might. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Do you mean – Draco!" she screamed, and jumped on top of him. "The baby, it's yours?!"

He nodded, hugging her while she squeezed his neck in her arms. She sat up again and said, "So normal people carry for nine months, but Veela only carry for five months. Therefore when a child is only part Veela the mother will give birth somewhere in the middle?"

Draco nodded again, gushing. "I wish I would have known from the beginning."

Hermione smiled and hugged him again. "It doesn't matter to me. At least we know now."


	18. Chapter 18

When Hermione returned to Ginny's house, she was a whole different person

**Leaving**

When Hermione returned to Ginny's house, she was a whole different person. Ginny, who was a naturally curious person and had been waiting the whole hour for Hermione to return so she could ask her what his important news was about, was very surprised indeed to see her so jolly.

"Hermione," she said immediately, before she called Hugo and Lily downstairs. "How did a private meeting with _Draco Malfoy_ make you this happy?" she asked skeptically.

She was beginning to think…

"Oh, Ginny!" Hermione said dramatically as she flopped down on the couch. "I have so much to tell you!"

Ginny nodded. "You're right, you do. Hermione, I'm very confused."

Hermione nodded back. "That's reasonable… listen," she became very serious, and lowered her voice. "Ginny, I haven't told anyone about this… I need you to try to understand. I mean, I know you'll hate me and everything, but – "

No, it couldn't be true!

"Hermione," Ginny cut her off. "Please tell me what you're on about."

Hermione took a deep breath, and all at once Ginny was sure about what she would say.

"Ginny, do you ever get frustrated with Harry for being gone so much?"

Ginny hadn't expected that.

"Umm, I guess so. I mean, it isn't a big problem. Sure, I'd like him to be around more – "

"Doesn't he ever make you feel like you're invisible, though?" Hermione interrupted.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "We are talking about Harry, right? Harry and I are hardly in a room for three seconds together before he's got me in my knickers."

Hermione held up her hand. "Way too much information, Gin."

Ginny shrugged.

"Is there something wrong with me, Ginny?" Hermione suddenly shouted.

Ginny frowned. "Do you want me to answer truthfully?" she joked.

"No, Ginny, really. Why does Ron seem to care so little about whether I exist or not?"

Ginny nodded. "I've noticed that too. Have you tried asking him about it?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sort of. I mean, I'm hardly ever conscious during the four hours a day that he's home, but I have mentioned it once or twice."

"Well, Hermione, this is Ron Weasley, and above all else, he is a mindless git."

Hermione laughed. Ginny was happy to see it, too, because she was starting to get worried. But then her anxiety reappeared.

"Ginny, I slept with Draco," Hermione admitted suddenly.

Ginny felt her jaw drop and practically had to lift it off the floor herself. Her mind raced, and she didn't even know which question to ask first.

"Not today," Hermione cleared up. That took care of one. "It was about five months ago."

That raised quite a few more.

"Holy House-elf, Hermione! Is the baby his?!" Ginny heard herself say.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I think so. No, I'm almost positive."

Ginny's eyes were feeling dry from not blinking for the last minute or so, but she couldn't seem to make them move. She could barely breathe, in fact. This was too much shock for one day.

Ginny heard Hermione sniff and re-focused her eyes on her friend and sister-in-law.

"I, Hermione, I have no idea what to say."

Hermione nodded and wiped away a tear. "I know. Please, just don't tell Ron. I'm going to… well, I'll take care of it."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny, forming all sorts of crazy images in her head.

"I'm going to give him a choice," Hermione said. "If he chooses the right option, then… maybe I'll give him another chance. But Ginny, I love Draco."

Ginny nodded. She had known for a while, at least, that her brother's marriage was crumbling. She knew from things that Rose and Hugo said.

"Don't hate me Gin," Hermione pleaded.

Ginny shook her head numbly. "No, no, I don't," was all she could say.

"Ron?"

Hermione heard a crash near the other side of the room, and she was sure she'd startled him into falling over.

"Hermione? You still up?" he asked in the pitch-dark.

"Yeah," Hermione said. "Come over here."

She'd been going over what she would say for the whole day, practically, and she was relatively calm now. She felt the weight of the bed shift, and knew he'd entered on the other side.

"Is everything alright?" he asked drowsily. "I'm tired, I need to go to sleep."

"Not now, Ron," Hermione said. "No, everything isn't alright."

She heard him groan. "What is it?" he asked sarcastically.

"Ron, I'm not very happy," she said.

"Not very happy about…?" he asked testily.

"This," Hermione stated simply. "The way you treat me like I'm just an annoyance. The insignificant role I play in your life. Ron, this marriage is not what I imagined it would be."

She practically heard the wind get knocked out of him. He didn't respond for a minute, than said, "Well, what do you want me to do about it, Hermione? My job is really important to me. It actually makes me feel worth-while, for once in my life. For once I get to share the fame of being the top Auror alongside the famous Harry Potter. For once, I'm famous for me, not for him." He paused. "You've never understood."

She could hear the cutting edge on his voice.

"Well, I finally understand now," Hermione said without a tone of sadness in her voice. "I was going to give you a choice, but you've made up your mind already, as I can tell."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm leaving, Ron. I'm leaving right now. And I'll be home in the morning to get Hugo, and then he'll be gone too."

She could barely breathe. She'd feared it so long, but now that it was happening, she felt so exhilarated. She felt so free.

"Wha – What? Hermione, no! You can't just walk out – "

"That's where you're wrong," Hermione chuckled. "You've always thought that I was this docile creature who belonged to you. Well, Ron, I don't belong to you, and I can do whatever I like without your permission. I'm going."

"Where? Where will you go?" She could hear how frantic he was now. She felt a little guilty for doing this to him, but there was nothing to overcome how intensely happy she felt at that moment.

"It doesn't matter, Ron," she said.

She found a huge sense of satisfaction in the fact that the last thing he heard of her was the faint _pop_ of her Apparating away.


	19. Chapter 19

She hadn't told him that she would be coming, but he was expecting her nonetheless

**Moving**

She hadn't told him that she would be coming, but he was expecting her nonetheless. Even if it was only because he wanted her to come.

But when he heard a knock at the door, he jumped out of bed and ran to meet her.

The door flew open, and the light from the streetlamps flooded in, surrounding her like a halo.

"Hermione," he whispered as he enveloped her in his arms. He felt her breathe a sigh of relief into his chest just as he did the same into the top of her sweet-smelling head.

"Draco, I left him," she said, her voice brimming with joy. He thought that she might just be as happy as he was.

He loosened his grip on her as he ushered her into the house, shutting the door from the ungodly cold.

A sphere of light flew from his wand and lit up the room in the chandelier above the dining table. They stood face to face, not touching at all, but studying each other intently.

Draco's eyes caressed her hair in swirls, moved down to the soft curves of her face, pierced through her own eyes. He felt a beast growing inside of his chest as he gazed on the lips that she'd run her tongue across softly. All of the softness and roundness in her body called for him to embrace it, and he was about to answer when she spoke.

"I love you Draco."

Her voice hung in the still air, and Draco felt his heart race. He replayed the magical melody in his head a few times over before returning her love with all of his passion by pressing his lips to hers. He didn't breathe, for there was no longer a need. Her kiss was like life itself.

His hand gripped the back of her head, underneath her sweet mess of hair. Even the shape of her head was perfectly fitted to him as he pulled her closer. Her hands were on him, one on the base of his back and the other near his collar, struggling to unbutton his shirt. His other hand found flesh underneath her shirt, on the soft planes of her back.

He felt his shirt hanging open and moved to slide it off, then took hers over her head and threw it on the floor.

They reconnected with renewed force, indulging in the feeling of their skin pressed together. Every place Hermione ran her hand over, Draco felt burning feverishly. His face was flushed and he felt droplets of sweat forming on his neck and chest despite the coldness of the evening.

Then he broke away from her. She looked at him in surprise, half concerned and half confused.

He grinned and lifted her into his arms swiftly, emitting a squeal from Hermione.

"What are you doing?" she screeched playfully.

He didn't answer, but pushed the door to his bedroom open forcefully. The resounding crash neither startled nor concerned him as he made his way to the bed and laid her on it.

Giggling, she held her arms out for him to join her. And he did.

Because of the swollenness of her belly, he couldn't lay on top of her. Instead, he laid beside her and paid tribute to her neck, her ear, and her collar bone. When she was breathing heavily and moaning with pleasure every few seconds, he pulled back from her.

Gazing into her shining eyes, he said, "I love you too Hermione." Then he grinned and added, "Let me show you how much."

When Hermione woke up, she laid still for a moment savoring the heavenly comfort all around her. The warmth of Draco's arms wrapped around her, the softness of his skin on hers. The way her body fit perfectly with his as they laid like puzzle pieces in his big elaborate bed. Even the smell of him brought her comfort, and she breathed deeply to capture it in her senses before even opening her eyes.

It had been a long time since she'd woken next to anyone else, and that fact alone changed everything. But knowing it was Draco there behind her made it all the more incredible, and she was sure she could stay there all day.

Well, at least for another thirty seconds. After that her bladder was sure to explode.

She removed the comforter and unwrapped herself from him gingerly before rushing off to take care of that particular side-effect of pregnancy. She found a silky robe in his bathroom and took the liberty of wrapping it around herself, feeling the liquid-like fabric move over her skin luxuriously.

When she returned to the bedroom, Draco had already woken.

He was stretched out on top of the covers, arms folded neatly behind his head, and resting with his eyes shut. He was unabashedly sprawled out in all of his glory, and despite the night they'd just had together, Hermione felt a blush rise hot into her cheeks.

The wooden door creaked and he realized her presence. Immediately, his eyes snapped open and his face broke into a wide grin. He made no motion, however, to cover himself.

Hermione smiled back, albeit a little bit uncomfortably, and crawled up onto the bed to meet him.

"Good morning," he said softly, his early-morning voice still husky and deep.

"Morning Draco," she replied sweetly. "The baby is kicking again. You want to feel it?"

He nodded. "Why so covered-up?" he asked as he untied the robe and slipped it off her shoulders. She giggled at his forwardness, but let him remove the robe easily.

She laid flat on her back, letting her belly jut out in front for him to feel. His soft, warm hands cupped her stomach and felt for the movement, which soon repeated itself. The child seemed to be trying to break out of that incubation organ by the force of its kicks and punches. Draco felt the movements with his hands for a while, then put his cheek up to her skin for no sane reason.

"Draco," Hermione giggled. "What are you doing?"

He chuckled, "I don't know, just feeling my baby move."

Hermione sighed. "Your baby," she said, feeling herself tear up slightly, but unable to resist the urge to smile at the same time.

"That's right," Draco said, moving up to face her and propping himself on his elbow. "My baby, and yours. And I'll love him just as much as I love you," he promised.

"Him?" Hermione questioned. "What makes you so sure it'll be a boy?"

Draco shrugged. "My sperm is ultra-masculine, like the rest of me. I'm not capable of having female children."

"That's not even possible!" Hermione screeched, rolling over to face him straight-on. "You're lying."

"I know," he admitted with a devilish grin. "But it will be a boy, I know that for sure."

Hermione shook her head. "Whatever you say."

"So, when should we start adding rooms to the house. We'll need at least three more, unless you want Hugo and Scorpius to share a room. But I don't think that's a good idea. Malfoys like their privacy."

Hermione raised her eye brows. "Does that mean you'll need your own room, too?"

Draco chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. "Not a chance. I want you in my bed every single night from now until forever."

Hermione laughed. "Only so you can ravish me as you wish!"

He shrugged again. "Possibly, but is that wrong? You're beautiful."

She gave him a little shove in the chest. "You're just trying to seduce me again."

"I know," he said huskily. "Is it working?"

She let her lips do the talking, and soon they were having a very deep conversation, involving quite a few moaning noises as well.

"Ginny," Ron said as he collapsed on his sister's couch miserably. "Hermione left me last night."

Ginny tried her best to act surprised, but she'd known it would happen. But what she didn't know was how much Hermione had told him.

"Did she say where she was going?" she asked after Ron told her the whole story.

He shook his head. "She told me it wasn't a concern of mine. What does that even mean?" he said incredulously. "Actually, I thought she would come here."

Ginny shook her head slowly. "No, I haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon."

Ron sighed. "How could she just leave me like this?"

Hermione returned home still early that morning and woke Hugo. The boy, of course, had no idea that his mother had been anywhere but home the previous night. He yawned and stretched and then asked Hermione, "Am I going to the sitter today?"

Hermione shook her head and told him no before telling him to sit down because she had some very important news for him.

"What is it mummy? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, mummy is fine. But Hugo, I have something to tell you, and I need you to try and be a big boy and understand," she said, sitting next to him on the small bed. "We are moving out of this flat and into a new one."

"Really?" his face brightened up. "That's so cool!"

Hermione smiled and tried not to cry as she said, "Hugo, honey, daddy isn't going to come with us."

He frowned. "Why not? Is he going away for work again?"

Hermione nodded. "He probably will, he does that quite often. But that's not why, Hugo. Mummy and daddy are not going to live together anymore. We're splitting up."

Hugo, to Hermione's surprise, nodded. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Hermione asked, completely astounded.

"We're moving in with that man who's got the son in Rose's year, aren't we?"

Hermione was speechless. She nodded.

"I knew it would happen ever since I saw you kissing him in the Quality Quidditch Supplies store before Christmas."

Hermione felt a deep blush rising into her face. How could she have been so careless to kiss Draco in a public place like that, with her own children in the building?

She took a deep breath, then asked, "Hugo, are you okay with this? Because if you don't want to move into his flat, we can get our own apartment for a while, and then maybe later we could move again, once you get used to the idea – "

"Mum," he said calmly. "Will you help me pack? I want to get my new room ready before tonight comes so that I'll be able to sleep."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief before assuring him that she would, indeed, help him pack.


	20. Chapter 20

Scorpius and Rose

**Scorpius and Rose**

Draco stood in his small apartment and pointed his wand at the wall opposite of him.

"_Fycellius Hugo_," he said, swishing his hand elegantly, and immediately a door sprung out of thin air on the wall.

Hugo gasped and ran to the door excitedly.

"Mum!" he screamed. "He just made a room! Just like that!"

Hermione laughed. "Isn't magic great, honey?"

"Wicked!" he agreed, opening up the door and stepping inside.

"It's humungous!" they heard him yell from inside.

Hermione turned to Draco. "How big did you make it?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "You know, about 6 meters."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "Draco! That's too big! He's just a little boy, he doesn't need all that room!"

He grinned. "He'll need it once I've spoilt the brains out of him."

"Draco," Hermione said seriously. "You've got to make it smaller."

He rolled his eyes.

"_Reducio_," he swished his wand, and then they both heard Hugo say something about it getting smaller.

"Thank you," Hermione said smugly as she placed an arm around his waist.

Draco nodded curtly then turned his attention to the wall once more.

"_Fycellius Rose_," he instructed, and once again a door appeared where none had been before. "Maybe you should take a look inside," he added. "You know, to make sure it's not too big?"

Hermione rolled her eyes this time. "I'm sure it's fine," she said warningly, and she heard him mutter another spell under his breath.

"Mum, come in here!" Hugo yelled from inside of his room. His voice was somewhat frantic, and Hermione's heart leapt as she ran to the door.

Once she entered the room, she could not believe her eyes.

"Hugo, did you do this?" she said incredulously.

He nodded.

Hermione chuckled. "You like the color red, do you?" she laughed.

Hugo had shown his first big sign of magical ability, and the proof was all over the walls and floor. He'd made the paint and carpets a deep color of red, and was standing in the middle of the room, looking stunned.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her son and he suddenly began to laugh as well, hugging her back and then jumping around his room excitedly.

Rose Weasley was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall with her two cousins, enjoying a sip of her pumpkin juice, when a huge black owl landed in front of her.

She put her cup down and tentatively reached out to take the letter. As soon as she'd removed it from his talon, he beat his wings and flew back up into the sky. But curiously, he didn't leave the hall. He swooped down again, this time right in front of Scorpius Malfoy.

Rose grimaced. If she was getting mail from the same person as Scorpius, she was not sure she wanted to read it.

Then she looked down and was surprised to see the handwriting of her mother scrawled across the envelope.

Opening the letter, she read its contents:

_Dear Rose,_

_I am so happy to see your marks from the previous semester! You're doing so well, and I am so proud of you! People used to call me smart when I was at school, but I think that you are even more intelligent than I am! _

_It must be all of the time in the library. Madam Pince has mentioned a few times that you are once of her most frequent visitors. I was that way too._

_I have a lot to tell you. I was hoping that I could sit down with you sometime this week. I've already spoken with your headmaster. Please write back and let me know when you are free to see me._

_Love, _

_Your Mum_

Rose glanced up at Scorpius. He was reading a letter also, and was apparently confused.

_Well, he can't be as confused as I am,_ Rose thought irritably. _Why is my mum writing letters to that prat?_

Scorpius folded the letter carefully and placed it in his cloak pocket.

_So father wants to have a meeting_, he thought. _Why didn't he just let me know the information in the letter? Doesn't he know that I am busy writing essays and teasing little bookworms – _

He glanced up at Rose, who, interestingly enough, was looking at him intently.

Scorpius grinned inwardly as he thought, _She definitely fancies me._

Hermione and Draco both received letters from their children that night.

Draco opened his after handing Hermione's to her, and he read the neat scratches slowly.

Father –

_I suppose that, if you need to see me, you could come on Wednesday. I have a block off that day right after lunch._

_Sincerely,_

_Scorpius Malfoy_

Draco smiled. His son was exactly like himself.

"What did Rose say?" he asked Hermione after replacing the letter in its envelope.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"_Dear Mum," _she read. "_I would love to meet you. Wednesday afternoon is the best day for me, because I have essays to write tonight and tomorrow night. Is Wednesday good for you?"_

Hermione paused, cleared her throat again, then continued, "_I have to ask: Why did this owl come, instead of yours and dads? And why did it drop off a letter to Scorpius Malfoy as well? Did you write to him too? Mum, I'm very confused about all of this. Hopefully you will explain._ And then she signed it," Hermione finished.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Your offspring really are bright aren't they? I can't believe she noticed that…"

"I can," Hermione said. "She's always been observant like that."

"What are you going to tell her?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged. "The truth, I suppose. She's old enough to know."

Draco nodded. "Right. I guess I'll do the same with Scorpius."

Hermione nodded.

The room was silent for a moment. Finally, Hermione opened her mouth.

"Draco, it doesn't seem like Rose and Scorpius exactly get along, does it?" she asked anxiously.

Draco snorted. "Of course not, Weasleys and Malfoys never do."

Hermione frowned. "I'm a Weasley."

Draco grinned and cupped her face in his hands. "Not anymore," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

The next morning, Hermione woke early and left the house without even kissing Draco goodbye. She knew what she had to do, and she was anxious to get it over with.

She Apparated into her familiar home, the one she'd known for years, and tip-toed into her old bedroom. The sun had not yet come up, and Hermione was not surprised to see Ron still in bed. It was still early enough that he hadn't left.

She illuminated the room with a swish of her wand and whispered, "Ron, wake up."

Of course, she knew it was more difficult than that to wake him, so afterwards she sat on the bed next to him and shook him gently.

"Ron, wake up," she said again, a bit louder this time.

At first, he only stirred, but then, apparently when he noticed who was in the room with him, he shot up, eyes wide open.

"Hermione!" he said, shocked.

"Hi," she said, a bit awkwardly. "Sorry I'm here so early, but I needed to catch you before you left for work."

He nodded.

"Listen, I think you deserve to know the whole truth, and I want you to hear it from me and not from someone else," Hermione said. "I've been staying with Draco for the last couple of days."

Ron's eyes got even bigger. "Draco Malfoy?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

Ron's look of confusion was enough after a couple of seconds, and Hermione decided to explain the whole situation without waiting for him to ask, seeing as he was speechless at the moment.

"He came to me back in September and asked me if I could help him get a divorce from Pansy," she began. "We sort of became friends – don't ask me how," she said when a question started forming on Ron's lips. "Listen, Ron, I don't want to blame this all on you. But I needed someone. And you weren't there…"

Ron's face became hard. "You've been with him ever since September?" he asked, fuming.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she answered. "I broke it off when I realized that I was pregnant a week later."

Ron frowned. "So then why have you run off with him?" he asked bitterly.

"Ron, this is going to be hard to believe, but the baby…"

"NO!" Ron shouted, raising his voice for the first time. "No, Hermione, you're lying. You can't be having a baby with that git!"

Hermione wiped a tear from her cheek. "I am, Ron. It's definitely his."

Ron clenched his jaw.

"When he found out the baby was his, he told me right away – "

"He told you?" Ron interrupted. "How did he know before you did?"

"He's a Veela," Hermione tried to explain. "Well, Veela are pregnant for shorter amounts of time and… Well, the babies grow faster, I don't know why… Haven't you noticed how fast the baby is growing? It's not normal. It's nothing like Rose and Hugo."

Ron frowned. "Rose and Hugo," he echoed. "Do they know?"

Hermione swallowed. "I'm going to Hogwarts to tell Rose tomorrow. Hugo doesn't know everything, but he knows enough for now…"

Ron wasn't speaking. The muscle in his jaw was jiggling, and that was how Hermione could tell he was really angry. She stood up and patted her cloak down.

"I just wanted you to know the truth," Hermione said before Apparating back to her home with Draco.

The next day approached quicker than Hermione was prepared for. She still had no idea how she would explain this to Rose. Telling Ron was easy, she didn't care if he was angry with her. She knew he had a right to be. But Rose…

Hermione had to find the right way to tell Rose without destroying the image of her life. She had to somehow convince her that it would be okay, and that they would be happier this way.

And she had no idea how to do it, especially now that she was walking up the steps to that huge doorway and stepping inside of her long-ago institute of learning.

This place held so many memories for her. She was caught in a world of nostalgia, flooded with memories of laughing and joking with Harry and Ron, her two best friends. She passed the Great Hall and remembered her fourth year, when she entered into that room dressed in a beautiful pink gown, on the arm of Viktor Krum. She went up the stairways and remembered when they had shifted enough to get her, Ron, and Harry lost on the forbidden 3rd floor in their first year.

Suddenly, she remembered the day so many years ago, on the night that Voldemort was finally destroyed. The night that changed all of their lives for the better, and yet, the same night that she and Ron had become a couple, leading her down a sad and lonely path. That night, especially now with the turn of recent events, held so many mixed feelings for her.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Quidditch Cup," she said, and the familiar Fat Lady swung her portrait open.

"Scorpius, there have been a few changes around the house that I think you should know about," Draco began.

Scorpius raised his eyebrows, and Draco continued.

"Do you remember that woman you met, a few days before Christmas?" he asked.

"Rose Weasley's mum?" Scorpius asked. "The pregnant one? Yeah, I remember. What about her?" he inquired skeptically.

Draco was beginning to see how difficult this task was going to be.

"Well," he took a deep breath. "She and I have moved in together."

"Oh," Scorpius said in a relaxed tone. "Is that all?"

Draco sighed with relief. "What, you don't mind?"

Scorpius frowned. "Why would I?" he asked. Then his eyes grew wide. "She's not bringing her kids along, is she? DAD?!"

Draco knew it couldn't be that easy. "Yes, actually, she is," Draco said matter-of-factly. "Why, is that a problem?"

"It's a huge problem!" Scorpius roared, moving his hands up to his head and pulling frantically on his hair.

"What?!" Rose practically screamed. "Scorpius Malfoy and I in the same HOUSE?! Mum, you've got to be insane!"

"Come on Rose," Hermione tried to calm her down. "He can't be all that bad, can he? I mean, if you get to know him?"

"Mum, he's _worse_ once you get to know him!"

Hermione gulped. "Really? Are you sure? Because I used to think the same thing about Draco and I was definitely wrong…"

"Mum, believe me, I'm sure," Rose insisted. "Plus, how am I supposed to be his sister? Mum, I think he fancies me."

"Father, you can't make us be siblings, it's just wrong," Scorpius was pleading. "Come on, dad, incest? Do you really think it's a good idea?"

"Incest? Scorpius, what are you on about?"

"Dad, Rose Weasley has the biggest crush on me ever seen at Hogwarts. If she's going to be my sister, that is just disgusting."

Draco rolled his eyes. "The biggest crush _ever_ seen at Hogwarts?"

Scorpius nodded. "Definitely."

Rose looked Hermione square in the eyes. "Mum, I'm telling you, we can't do this."

"Rose, I know it seems like it will be terrible, but can't you just give it a chance?"

"Mum, he's going to try to sneak into my room while I sleep."

"Rose, no he will not."

"Mum, he likes me a lot, I'm telling you."

"Rose, that's ridiculous."

She frowned and her mouth dropped open slightly. "Why is it so ridiculous?" she demanded. "I'm very worthy of his affection! I'm the only girl in the school who can beat him in grades and in Quidditch!"

Hermione apologized. "I'm sorry, Rose, I know you're a very fine girl to fancy."

"So, then, do I win?" she asked hopefully.

"No, Rose," Hermione shook her head. "This is going to happen. But I'll put magic-proof locks on your door so that he can't sneak in."

"Fine," Rose rolled her eyes. "At least we'll only have to spend summers in the same house."

"But Scorpius, don't you think you two are a little young to be interested in the opposite gender?" Draco asked.

Scorpius cocked an eyebrow. "Is there such a thing, dad?"

Draco laughed despite the difficult situation. Yes, Scorpius was exactly like him.

"Listen, son, I know you don't like the idea," Draco said.

"You've got that right," Scorpius agreed saucily.

"But it will be good, I promise. Hermione and I – we really love each other."

Scorpius nodded. "I know."

"And Scorpius, one more thing," Draco added. "The baby is mine."

"Rose, I just have one more bit of information to tell you," Hermione said uncomfortably. "The baby isn't your dad's… It's Draco's."


	21. Chapter 21

"I really don't see why you wanted me to meet you here," she whispered somewhat angrily

**Arrival**

"I really don't see why you wanted me to meet you here," she whispered somewhat angrily.

"I've already told you!" he whispered back. "We have to do something about this!"

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because!" he exclaimed. He was getting very excited about this, and she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to be so close to him. But in a broom closet of this size, it was impossible to get any further away. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your summer vacations with me? And Christmas vacations, for that matter! I'm sure they'll be spending every waking moment together from now on," he said coaxingly.

"I certainly do not want to spend my summer vacations with you – "

"Nor I with you!"

"But if you're proposing that I sabotage my mother's relationship with your father, you're insane," she finished sternly.

Scorpius frowned at her, and she knew why. Rose was a very intelligent girl, and of course she had already run over this very idea in her head. But, being intelligent, she had decided that it was unwise to intrude on her mother's happiness just so that she wouldn't have to be related to this prat in front of her.

But of course, she had known that he would not be as wise as she was, so she was completely unsurprised when he approached her.

"Come on Weasley," he pleaded. "I'll do anything if you'll help."

She raised her eyebrows skeptically once again. "And what could you offer that would make me change my mind?" she mocked. She knew that there was nothing he could say or do to sway her decision.

"I'll be your boyfriend," he blurted out.

Immediately, Rose's eyes popped and her jaw dropped. She felt heat rising into her face, but even more than the embarrassment, she was angry. She was fuming.

"MY WHAT?!" she screamed. She was too angry to whisper anymore.

He grinned at her, somehow thinking that he'd convinced her.

"You will not!" she said indignantly.

She slapped him, very forcefully, on the cheek before throwing open the door and running out of the closet. She left the door wide open, and the stunned boy staring after her.

It was the middle of March and the winter was coming to a close. With the blossoms of spring came a new wave of excitement inside the Malfoy/Weasley house as they prepared for the rapidly approaching arrival of their new baby.

Breathing in the scent of Draco pleasantly, Hermione whispered early-morning greetings to him.

"I love you," she said softly into his neck, placing a kiss on the exposed flesh.

She felt the muscles pulling as he smiled in response.

Slowly, trying to be discreet, he'd begun inching his hand up and around her waist.

He hugged her tightly and turned to face her.

"Hermione, marry me," he whispered.

Hermione's only response was a gasp and a shocked silence. Draco moved away so that he could see her face fully.

"Come on, say something!" he joked nervously.

"Of course I will Draco!" Hermione said after finally finding her voice. "This is just a surprise!"

He smiled. "Well, life's full of surprises isn't it?" he said softly before kissing her lips with delicate passion.

Hermione smiled in reply and settled into his comforting arms, wanting to never part from his warmth.

She had closed her eyes again and was slipping into that state of in-between sleep and consciousness when she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her side.

She winced at first, but then the pain grew to be unbearable.

"Draco," she said in shock. "I think I'm going into labor!"

He sat up instantly and stared at her. "What?" he asked, although he heard her perfectly. "Hermione!"

"What? It's not my fault!" she screamed. She was suddenly very irritable.

He pushed the coverings off of her and went around to her side of the bed to help her up.

"Where… where do we go!?" he asked urgently.

"THE HOSPITAL!" she screamed back at him.

"The – the Muggle hospital?" he wavered.

"YES, Draco, the MUGGLE hospital! Let's go!" she insisted. She was in too much pain to realize that he had no idea where it was, so when he stood there and didn't move, she screamed, "COME ON! You have to Apparate me there, I can't do it like this!"

"I – Hermione, I don't know where to Apparate!" he panicked. His eyes were darting all over the room, like he would somehow spot the hospital that way.

"Corner of Wine Office Court!" she said impatiently. Immediately, he grabbed her hand and sent them both flying through space.

The Apparation process was even more uncomfortable this way, Hermione was sure, as she felt her body squeezed from all sides yet ready to explode at the same time. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they emerged on the other side.

The familiar hospital that Hermione had been to once already came in to view. She kept her hold on Draco's hand as she rushed toward the entrance.

Although he had one child already, this was a completely new experience for Draco. With Pansy, the midwives had come to their home when she delivered. But Hermione and Draco had so little time to prepare for things like that. They'd only been living together for a month or so, and only about a week ago had things around the house calmed down.

_And what a sweet week that was_, Draco thought nostalgically as he fought to keep the bones in his hand from breaking under the pressure of Hermione's squeezing.

She pulled him down to her suddenly, positioning his ear next to her mouth, and whispered urgently, "Draco, please, give me something. A _Stupefy_, anything!"

He frowned at her. "I'm not going to knock you out!" he said. "Here, _Solus_. It's mild, but maybe it will – "

Hermione sighed deeply and shut her eyes, appearing at last to be able to breathe. Draco smiled, happy that he could do something to help. He just hoped that none of these Muggle doctors saw anything.

"Thanks," she whispered.

He took a towel and patted her forehead, soaking up the sweat that was running down her brow. Stretching his hand, which was no longer needed for crushing, he sat down and patiently awaited the arrival of his child.

As much as she dreaded ever speaking to him again, especially after slapping him that hard only a week before, Rose had no hesitation when she read the letter.

Rose –

_Your mum is having the baby._

_From Draco_

It was rushed and in descriptive, and she knew that Scorpius had received the same thing. She rose immediately, without saying anything to James or Albus, and strode across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table.

Every eye in the huge room was fixed on her as she approached Scorpius and bent to whisper something into his ear. He nodded, and stood up.

Together, they exited the Great Hall and walked in quick strides up to the Headmaster's office.

"I can't believe this is happening," she said to herself.

"I know," Scorpius agreed. Rose felt herself blushing. She hadn't meant to start a conversation with him. And frankly, she was surprised that he wasn't hexing her into oblivion at the moment.

_He must __**really**__ like me_, she thought, somewhat pleased.

They reached the gargoyles and stopped abruptly.

"Umm, do you know the password?" she said awkwardly.

He shook his head. "I thought you did."

Rose sighed with frustration. "How did I not think of this?"

"Really," Scorpius agreed. "I mean they say that you're the smartest girl in the school…"

She turned on him immediately, glaring at him viciously. She saw a shadow of fear cross his face before he grinned and said, "I was only joking."

She rolled her eyes and plopped down on the floor to think.

He sat next to her.

She looked over at him with disgust and scooted a few inches to the right.

He grinned and scooted closer to her than he'd been before.

"Ugh, Malfoy, stop it," she spat.

"Why," he asked nonchalantly. "I'm just sitting."

She turned to glare at him, but the sight of his soft pointed face and eyebrows raised innocently made a smile twitch on her lips, and she turned away immediately so that he wouldn't see it.

But it was too late.

"WEASLEY!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Did you just smile at one of my jokes?"

"Ha," she snorted. "I was only suppressing the urge to laugh at your hideous face, Malfoy," she lied.

He knew she was lying, though, because a smirk twisted itself onto his little complacent face.

A few minutes later, Rose jumped up and began pacing. "This is useless, she will have had the baby already by the time we get in there."

"Get in where?" a voice from behind them asked.

"Professor Clearwater!" the both of them exclaimed in surprise.

"Were the two of you looking for me?"

Rose was very happy to see the familiar face of her headmaster. Although she was related to him (distantly, of course, through her Aunt Penelope, who was his cousin), she had never met him until her first night at Hogwarts. In the past year, the two of them had only spoken a few times. Rose was somewhat disappointed that she didn't have the relationship that her mum and dad and Uncle Harry had with their headmaster, but she knew that it was a different situation. She, of course, was not nearly as meddlesome as the three of them had been.

She smiled at him and said, "Professor, Malfoy and I need a favor."

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed. "Her mum is having my dad's baby in a Muggle hospital in London, and we want to be there."

Clearwater raised his eyebrows. "Your mum," he said to Rose, "and your dad…" he looked at Scorpius.

"Well," he said, smacking his lips. "Let's see what we can do."

Without a word, the gargoyles opened the pathway for the three of them to go in.

"Draco," Hermione said suddenly. "Where is Hugo?"

Draco felt his heart jump as he remembered the boy.

"I'll go get him," he said immediately, and rose to leave. But Hermione grabbed his hand.

"Don't leave, please," she begged.

He knew that it was getting close, and he didn't want to miss it any more than she wanted him to.

"But what do we do about him, then?" he asked, knowing that Hugo would have woken up already and would definitely be wondering where his mum had gone.

"Send your Patronus," she whispered, trying to keep the nurse from hearing.

Draco nodded. "Okay. I'll be right back."

He stepped out of the room, then back in almost immediately.

"I don't know what he'll do, though," Draco said once he sat down in the chair. He was only able to inform Hugo of where they were. He couldn't give him any way to get there. "Hermione, I've got to go get him. In five minutes, I'll Apparate there and back. You won't even notice I've gone," he said resolutely.

"Draco?" she said.

"Mmmhmm?"

"I love you," she said, smiling.

He chuckled and returned the words.

Five minutes later, he left the room again and Apparated into the living room of his apartment. He almost fainted when he saw what had happened while he was away.

"Hugo!" he shouted, not exactly angry but definitely surprised. Hugo had displayed his magical ability once again by enlarging the sofa to the size of an elephant.

Hugo looked at him in fear and began to cry.

"I'm – I'm sorry!" he wailed. "I didn't mean to!"

Draco laughed as he kneeled next to the boy and put his arms around him. "It's okay, Hugo. I know you didn't mean to."

Hugo kept wailing and sobbing until he finally calmed himself down to just sniffing.

"I don't even know how it happened, I just looked at it and – " his bottom lip began trembling again and Draco hushed him.

"_Reducio_," Draco said as he pointed his wand at the swelling sofa. "See, Hugo? It's all better."

Hugo looked from the sofa to Draco and back in amazement.

"Wow," he breathed.

"I know, right?" Draco laughed, picking Hugo up in his arms swiftly. "Come on, we've got to get back to your mum."

Draco and Hugo appeared in the hallway outside of Hermione's delivery room in a matter of seconds, and Draco rushed in the room.

Hermione smiled at the sight of him carrying her son, and Draco smiled back.

"You almost ready?" he said, sitting back down in the chair.

"I think so," she nodded. "But I can't tell very well because I can't feel the pain."

"Should I – "

"NO," she cut him off. "Sorry, I mean, no thank you. I'll be fine."

"Mummy?" Hugo said from the other side of the hospital bed. "Is the baby going to be a boy?"

Hermione smiled at him and placed her hand on his cheek. "I dunno sweetie," she told him.

"Yes, Hugo, it is," Draco said proudly.

Hermione just laughed.

Rose and Scorpius were coming up the hall as they heard a shrill scream.

"Do you think that was your mum?" Scorpius said, looking terrified. "Weasley, maybe we shouldn't – "

"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand and pulled him along to keep him from turning around. "I think that might have been the baby."

As if on cue, another noise came from the same direction, but this time it was a very definite cry of a newborn baby.

They both broke into a run.

"Come on!" Rose shouted.

"I have a brother!" Scorpius jumped in the air excitedly.

"No you don't!" Rose shouted as she continued to sprint down the hall. "It's going to be a sister! I know it!"

Just then, the two of them reached the door and burst in.

All of their previous energy seemed to dissipate as they entered the still silence of the delivery room.

"Rose," Hermione whispered. "Come here."

Rose tiptoed quietly to the place next to Hugo beside the hospital bed.

"Father," Scorpius whispered. "Is it a boy?"

Draco smiled, and Scorpius was about to taunt Rose for her misjudgment when Draco shook his head softly.

"No, it's not a boy," he said, putting an arm around Scorpius. "You've got a sister, Scorpius."

Rose giggled and Hermione squeezed Draco's other hand.

"Delilah Malfoy," the two of them said together.


	22. Chapter 22

End-of-summer breeze wafted through the air as groom and bride kissed happily underneath the enchanted flowers floating in the

**Finally A Family**

End-of-summer breeze wafted through the air as groom and bride kissed happily underneath the enchanted flowers floating in the air.

Draco held Hermione's hand in his as he turned to the crowd and could not suppress his smile. Their four children waved and cheered ecstatically from the front row, little tiny Delilah in the arms of her big sister.

Her white-blonde hair was getting long enough that they could see that it would have a bouncy curl to it, and her four front teeth had grown in pearly and white. She giggled and baby-talked along with the crowd, for even she knew that this was a joyous occasion.

Two months ago, in the beginning of July, Hermione and Ron had officially divorced. Draco hadn't seen much of Ron at all, especially since then. But he was here, sitting in the very back, clapping and smiling.

Draco gave Hermione a mischievous grin before lifting her up into his arms and spinning her around. The enchantment broke then, and all of the white and yellow daisies rained down on them and their guests. Laughing and smiling, Draco lowered Hermione to the ground and they walked hand-in-hand down the aisle, waving to their friends and families as they passed.

Even Lucius Malfoy was present, although looking sour, next to Narcissa in the second row. Draco's mother blew the couple a kiss as they passed, and even Lucius was able to find a grimacing smile from somewhere within.

When they reached the end of the long aisle, the two of them turned around for one last wave. Then, with a pop, they Apparated together to their next destination.

The world opened up from its darkness into a light, airy room with bountiful white linens. Hermione gave a laugh of amusement as she looked around the gorgeous seaside hotel suite with the breeze blowing through the opened windows and through the light curtains.

"Draco!" she exclaimed after spinning full around to see the whole room. "It's so beautiful!"

He smiled and said, "I'm glad you like it. But it's not as beautiful as you are."

"Oh, Draco! It's incredible!"

He wrapped his arms around her thin waist and pulled her close to him. She felt herself begin to blush as he smelled her hair and sighed softly. She marveled at how she still melted in his arms. He began to rub his cheek on hers in a soft caress, and she let her eyes close with the pleasure of his skin against hers.

She lowered her head onto his shoulder as she felt his fingers begin to unclasp the many small buttons that ran from the nape of her neck to the curves of her lower back. Every button that fell open made her bite her lip a little bit harder in anticipation.

When her back was fully exposed, he trailed his fingers down her spine and sent her body into shivers. She moaned lightly and her fists tightened, full of the fabric of his tuxedo jacket. He ran his fingers back up and around her jaw, then down her chin and onto her chest. He easily moved aside the straps of her dress and the lacy white fabric fell around her waist. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, so she was fully exposed to him then.

He kissed her and pressed his body against hers, letting her feel the silk of his shirt against her sensitive skin. He stepped forward, causing her to move backwards to stop from falling over. Her bare back touched a marble column that stood in the middle of the room, and the coldness gave her goose bumps all over, especially on her breasts.

Her little gasp made him chuckle as he continued to kiss her, more and more passionately. Before long, the body heat coming from the two of them was enough to warm a thousand cold marble columns.

He took her breasts in his hands as he began to suck lightly on her bottom lip. He was leaning on her so strongly now that she was pinned between the pillar and him. Her hands moved quickly to remove his jacket and begin unfastening his tie as he cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over them tenderly.

They were breathing heavily as she removed his shirt quickly and they reunited with more passion than before. His flesh pressed against hers and reminded her of the soft elegance of his body. She ignored the thin layer of sweat that was forming on her chest and back as she began to kiss his neck and his collar bones enthusiastically.

His hands moved to her waist, where he gave a slight tug on the fabric of her dress and sent it to fall around her ankles. She gasped again, and he seized the opportunity to pick her off of her feet and carry her over to the large bed in the other side of the room.

Giggling and kicking, she was laid out on the linens wearing nothing other than a pair of lacy white underwear and thin, strappy heels. He removed his remaining clothes, dramatizing the affair for her benefit and grinning seductively the whole time, which made her laugh even harder, and then jumped in bed with her. He made a comment about contraception spells and whispered an incantation under his breath before throwing his wand onto the marble tiles. Her giggles were effectively driven out as he returned to kiss her like he'd been doing before. She didn't make him wait very long before her clothes went to join his on the floor, and she was on top of him.

Before long, they were lying in a heap of gasping and sweet sweating in the afterglow of their united love.

"So they're married," Scorpius said as he picked up a tart and bit into it lusciously.

Rose rolled her eyes. "So what?" she asked, glaring at him as she licked the icing from her tart off of her lips.

"Well, it's going to be a lot different, isn't it?"

"How?" she asked quizzically.

"I don't know – "

"We've already been living together as a family for months," she interrupted. "It won't be any different."

Scorpius swallowed the sweet and then mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" Rose demanded.

"You'll have to get over your huge crush on me," he said a bit louder this time.

"You mean you'll have to get over yours," she scoffed at him.

"Don't be ridiculous," Scorpius laughed incredulously. "I don't have a huge crush on myself."

Rose growled and rolled her eyes. "Could you be any more daft?"

"Only if I was trying to be your dad," Scorpius retorted nonchalantly.

In a blurred moment, Rose jumped on top of Scorpius and was punching him repeatedly. He was screaming and trying to block her blows as his legs wriggled under her.

"DON'T YOU DARE INSULT HIM, YOU PIECE OF GARBAGE!" she was screaming, but hardly anyone would have been able to understand the words because they were mixed in with gasps and sobs and Scorpius' screeching.

Hugo stared in amazement as his sister attacked his new step-brother. Delilah was watching as well, but she seemed quite distressed. She began to wail, which made Hugo place her on the floor off of his lap and cover his ears in agony.

The adults at the reception stared also in silence until Ginny stepped in with Harry and they forced the two apart. Rose was red and huffing and her brown hair was effectively disheveled out of its previous bun. Her face was shining with tears and her lips were trembling with the silent curses she was saying to Scorpius. The boy was in much worse shape. His blonde hair was ripped out in a spot near his crown, his face had scratches and bruises on it, and his formerly sleek and shining tuxedo was ripped in one spot and dirtied all over. His nose appeared to be bleeding.

Draco and Hermione arrived at home after a long and enjoyable week to hear the news of how their children reacted at the reception after their wedding. According to Ginny, the pair had behaved since then, but that was no excuse.

They were both punished harshly: A whole day in their rooms with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

Hermione knew, of course, that it would do no good, but she settled on it since Draco seemed against anything further. He was very soft with his children when it came to punishment. Hermione was becoming sure of this because, that very day, Delilah bit him on the finger hard enough to draw blood, and the only thing he did was tell her, "that hurt daddy," and sat her on the carpet instead of the sofa next to him.

Hermione couldn't help but smile when she saw the way he interacted with their daughter. He was kind to Scorpius, but Delilah was different. True to her name, she seemed to weaken him until he melted like butter. Her shining blue eyes and alabaster face would do that to most people, Hermione was sure.

The first few days of their return were hectic. They had only a few days to shop for school supplies and robes before the first of September arrived, and the six of them headed off to King's Cross Station.

Hugo, of course, had no problem leaving his mother. He was thrilled to learn magic and be with his cousins every day. His only concern was leaving behind his cousin Lily, who had always been a companion to him. He promised her, however, that he would visit her at Christmas.

After watching through the fog as the Hogwarts Express pulled the three away, Hermione, Draco, and Delilah walked hand-in-hand (and baby-in-arms) through the busy train station. They reached the parking lot, where Draco paused.

"Do you remember?" he whispered, cuddling Delilah on his shoulder.

"When I saw you in my wing mirror and fell in love? Yes," Hermione replied as she reached to kiss him on the cheek.

"Who would have known," Draco said softly.

"You knew," Hermione joked. "It was your plan all along."

"Oh, yes," Draco mocked, breaking his stoic peacefulness and startling the infant in his arms. She whimpered a little, then settled back down and began drooling all over his coat.

Hermione petted her daughter on the head and caressed her husband's cheek before embracing them both.

In that year, her world had turned upside-down. The changes in her life were unbelievable, and the pain was great, but looking back, she wouldn't have done it any other way.


End file.
